


Misplaced

by achievemenhunter



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Angst, Bodyswap, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, I guess technically it's more of a mindswap, M/M, Mad King Ryan, Parallel Universes, Smut, oh well
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-07
Updated: 2015-03-20
Packaged: 2018-01-23 21:45:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 19
Words: 43,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1580630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/achievemenhunter/pseuds/achievemenhunter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ryan had always found the whole 'Mad King' persona that had been pushed onto him rather amusing.</p><p>But when he finds himself trapped in a world where everyone expects him to be a ruthless, bloodthirsty monarch, the joke somewhat loses its humour.</p><p>Meanwhile, the Mad King takes over the body that Ryan left behind. And there's no way he's going to quietly sit around in this fascinating new world and just do nothing.</p><p>Even if the real Ryan manages to escape the reality he's been thrown into without being caught out first, he might still arrive back home too late...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This week, on Hunter writes things for prompts that will almost definitely end up as an extended fic...
> 
> A nonnie request for the giveaway, for a Freewood story with either Gavin becoming Vav, or Ryan becoming the Mad King. I wasn't sure if you meant you wanted an origin story or a bodyswap, but I've been planning to write a bodyswap for a while, and frankly the whole switching personas thing was too interesting to pass up. Because it's me, I went with Mad King Ryan, and may have gotten a little carried away? Oops.
> 
> (Oh, and to whoever prompted this - please let me know if you actually wanted an origin fic, and I'll get right on it :)

Ryan stretched with a yawn, the bones in his spine popping as his arms arched above his head. He rubbed his stomach in a displeased manner, wishing that the strange ache that had been plaguing him for the last few days would just go away already. He wasn't really sure what he had. It wasn't the sort of discomfit that made him want to throw up, more like someone had wrapped a rope around his insides and was gently trying to tug them out.

 

It wasn't a particularly pleasant sensation, but it wasn't like it was hurting him. He'd mentioned it in passing to Gavin, but neither of them had been particularly concerned about it. Ryan was a generally healthy person, after all, it wasn't likely to be anything serious. Ryan had been convinced it would fade quickly, but still promised Gavin he'd get it checked if it got worse or hung around for more than a week.

 

He hummed quietly to himself as he opened the cupboard doors of the bedroom, hanging and stacking his and Gavin's laundry away. The two of them had moved into the new apartment together almost six months previously, and had just that morning finally gotten around to unpacking the last of the moving boxes. He smiled to himself as he fed a coat hanger through the neck hole of one of Gavin's shirts. They were officially moved in.

 

Ryan hadn't quite believed Gavin when the Brit said he wanted to go on a date with Ryan, all those months ago - he'd thought that the Lads or Geoff had set him up on some sort of bet. Of course, he'd always considered the Brit to be a very attractive and interesting person. So he agreed, curious to see just how far Gavin was willing to go with the charade. Ryan took him out to dinner at a reasonably fancy restaurant, and had to stop himself from drooling too much at the sight of Gavin in dress shirt and slacks.

 

He'd mostly been joking when he offered for Gavin to come home with him. He hadn't really expected Gavin to say yes.

 

He definitely hadn't expected Gavin to tackle him to the couch and kiss him passionately. He'd pushed the younger man away once he'd started unbuttoning Ryan's shirt, and had been confused by the hurt expression on Gavin's face.

 

_"What's wrong?"_

_"What's wrong?" Ryan raised both eyebrows at him, incredulous. "Don't you think you're going a little far for some dumb bet?"_

_Gavin gave him a quizzical look. "What're you on about?"_

_"I thought you were having some sort of bet with one of the guys to get me to go on a date with you."_

_The Brit burst into laughter. "Seriously? You think someone would need to pay me to want to go on a date with you?" He cackled, clutching his stomach as he wiped away mirthful tears. "Ah, Ryan. You're so funny. Really, I'd never mess with your feelings like that, it'd be bloody horrible of me."_

_"Oh. So you... actually feel that way about me?"_

_"No, Ryan, I just started snogging you on your couch because I needed to be able to collect your saliva without being obvious about it, and take the sample back to my alien rulers."_

_"Gavin, that's gross."_

_Gavin grinned. "You're the one that was letting me do it." He hooded his eyes, smirking seductively. "And I'm really hoping you'll let me do it again."_

_Ryan grinned right back. "Stop referring to it as collecting my saliva, and you can do what you like."_

He smiled fondly at the memory, but the expression dimmed as the uncomfortable sensation in his abdomen grew stronger. He pressed a hand to his stomach and tried to ignore it as he put away a stack of jeans. He moved on to the underwear, but they fell from nerveless fingers as the tugging became so strong that he actually staggered, bumping into the cool synthetic material of his desk. The sensation spread from his abdomen and rushed through his limbs, his extremities tingling as he felt his whole body lurch back. He clutched at the desk, eyes wide.

 

Okay, _now_ he wanted to throw up.

 

He dropped to his knees, body tipping forward, but before he could unhave his lunch he felt himself falling through _more_ than air, felt time and space dilate around him, then suddenly spit him back out. He collapsed in a heap against the cold stone floor.

 

His head buzzed and he wondered why he was on a stone floor. He looked down in confusion. Why was he wearing a finely embroidered black coat? Why was he wearing a soft white silk shirt underneath it?

 

_Why on earth was he wearing a fucking kilt?_

 

Ryan shook his head and looked around the room. He stared in stupefaction for a good ten seconds, his brain refusing to process what he was seeing.

 

It almost looked like he was in a mad scientist's lab, only... medieval. Thick glass containers filled with all manner of strange substances and objects - was that a _hand_? - were arranged neatly on broad wooden shelves, labelled in flowing script with a parchment tag tied around the neck of each vial with thin rope. Horrifying-looking instruments hung from the walls near a raised slab, made of the same black stone as the walls, the floor and the ceiling. Ryan recoiled as he realised the dark stains on the slab's surface had to be from blood. His stomach roiled, threatening to propel its contents upwards and outwards, and he tore his gaze away from the stained stone.

 

He wished he hadn't.

 

His eyes immediately lit upon the mutilated corpses hanging on hooks to the left of the archaic dissection table, some barely even recognisable as human. His stomach protested fiercely at the sight, and he gave in, violently throwing up on the ground. He managed to avoid getting anything on himself, but this small mercy did little to comfort him as he crawled away from the puddle of sick. He leaned his back against the broad base of a stone bench, topped with a strange apparatus that quietly bubbled away with various liquids. There was a bronze mirror propped against the wall opposite, and he caught a glimpse of his face. Initially, he was relieved that it was his own, but he quickly realised that wasn't quite true. The face in the mirror was leaner, crueller, despite how pale and terrified it was. His head dropped in his hands and he started shaking uncontrollably.

 

This couldn't be real. He had to be dreaming, or hallucinating, or, or... _something_. He couldn't have just dropped into the mind of his doppelganger in some alternate time period. That was ridiculous. That was _impossible_.

 

Something scratched at his mind as he sat there, trembling, and it grew more and more insistent until light exploded behind his eyes and he was bombarded by a terrifying mixture of sounds and images, merging together to form memories that weren't his. He felt nauseous all over again as he saw himself - _no, no, it wasn't really you, it was whoever's body you're now in_ \- cutting into skin, carving away at flesh and bone, extracting organs - _it's not you, it's HIM_ \- maiming, torturing, killing, revelling in the pained cries of others-

 

 _"NO!"_ Ryan shouted, but he continued to remember the life of his alternate self in sickening detail. His stomach heaved and he threw up again, vomit splattering onto his fingers and he hunched over on his hands and knees.

 

There was a series of muffled thumps on the door. "My King, are you alright?"

 

Ryan trembled, wanting to cry.

 

"King James! Do you require assistance?"

 

 _Get up_ , his mind screamed at him. _Whoever's out there will realise something's gone wrong if you don't answer, and they'll probably torture you or kill you if they find out you're not actually their King. Get the fuck up!_

 

Ryan rose unsteadily to his feet, swiping a rough cloth from the bench and wiping the vomit from his still-shaking hands. He noticed a thick red cloak hanging from a stand next to a pedestal holding a crown, and quickly donned both items. The cloak was warm and comforting, but the crown sat heavily on his head.

 

The fact that his alternate self went by his first name made Ryan feel a little better for some reason, and he let his voice grow sonorous and authoritative. "I'm quite alright. Don't concern yourself." He flinched a little at the way his voice boomed strongly off the stone walls, then squared his shoulders, schooling his features into a mask. He did theatre in college, he could do this. He could bluff his way through until he found a way home.

 

He didn't really dwell on how exactly he was going to accomplish that. There was time for that later.

 

He opened the door.

 

"My King, what is the matter?"

 

Ryan forced himself not to react as he recognised Michael under the guard's uniform. _This isn't the Michael you know_ , he reminded himself sternly, and he became aware of an air of awe - no, _fear_ \- clinging to the guard like perfume. Michael was scared. Of _him_.

 

"Has there been any progress in your experiments?" Michael asked, gaze respectfully averted. Too afraid to meet Ryan's eyes.

 

 _Not Michael_ , he chanted over and over in his mind, keeping his face completely impassive. "There has been something of a... complication with my work." _Yeah. 'Complication' is a word for it_. "My studies are done for the day, send for someone to clean up. Tell them that if they touch anything they are not meant to, I will gladly have their skin removed." He let his mouth curl into a smirk. "I'm sure they are already aware of that, but it does no harm to remind them." He swept past the guard without another word, hiding the tremors of his hands in the folds of the cloak.

 

He strode down the corridors without looking at anyone, glad for the memories of how to get to the royal chambers. He shoved the oaken bedroom doors open and quickly shut them behind him, leaning his head against the solid wood. He ground the palms of his hands against his eyes. The trembling in his hands overtook his whole body, and he let out a horrified sob at how disturbingly easily those cruel words had fallen from his lips.

 

After what felt like hours, his breathing finally steadied and he stopped quivering. He wiped at his eyes and crossed the room, tugging at the heavy drapes covering the window and peering outside. He could see the castle's courtyard far below, underneath walls and towers dotted with braziers that kept the patrolling guards from freezing in the icy night air. Ryan shivered in sympathy, even though the glowing coals in the large fireplace embedded in the opposite wall filled the room with heat. Beyond the bulky structure of the castle walls, he could see the dim outline of a forest, cast into darkness by a night sky that had no moon but was strewn with more stars than he'd seen in his life. _Guess there's nowhere near as much light pollution here as back home_ , he mused. _Wherever 'here' actually is_.

 

Sighing, he let the curtain fall back in place and padded over to the huge bed, undressing as he went. He slipped underneath the covers and resigned himself to lying there until morning came, wracked with fear and confusion.

 

He didn't account for how soft the bedding would be against his tightly wound body, or how drowsy the heat of the fireplace would make him, or just how exhausted this whole parallel universe ordeal had actually made him. Despite himself, he felt his tensed limbs gradually relax, and it wasn't long before his eyelids drooped shut, his mind drifting peacefully into the realm of sleep.

 

~* * *~

 

James gripped the edge of the desk, the strange material feeling out of place under his fingers. He grinned savagely. It had worked! His experiment had actually worked!

 

He shook himself. Well, of course it had. He _was_ a genius, after all.

 

His grin grew and grew until he started laughing.

 

Who was the mad one now? He knew what the court scholars thought of his ideas of the existence of multiple universes; of entire worlds that held all the same people as theirs, except different in minor or major ways, depending on how closely each world overlapped. He knew they whispered that he was crazy when they were behind closed doors, but they weren't the ones standing in an alternate dimension, now were they? They weren't the ones with a whole new world at their fingertips. He laughed again.

 

This was going to be an absolutely _fascinating_ venture.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe that Gavin and Ryan had that huge bodyswap conversation in the Minecraft LP just days after I posted the first chapter of a bodyswap fic. I mean, I know they probably recorded the LP before I posted it, but what are the chances, right? The best thing about it is that some of the stuff Ryan was saying about it will actually play into what happens later on in the fic, because oh boy do I have plans... *rubs hands together while cackling*

Ryan woke groggily. God, what a weird dream. He couldn't remember having dreams that vivid since his childhood, and none of them had been anywhere near as disturbing. Travelling to a parallel universe where he was a ruthless and bloodthirsty king? He needed to stop watching Game of Thrones so soon before going to bed.

 

As he sluggishly shook off the vestiges of sleep, he became aware of someone moving between his legs, hot mouth wrapped around his cock. He saw an unruly mop of golden-brown hair and a flash of green eyes and recognised Gavin.

 

"Well this is certainly a pleasant way to wake up." Ryan smiled sleepily at the man giving him the unconventional wakeup call. The smile dimmed as his sleep-slow mind cleared, registering the strange clothes Gavin was wearing, that they were both in the room that Ryan had fallen asleep in when he was dreaming.

 

His stomach coiled and sank as he realised that it hadn't been a dream. As crazy as it sounded, he really was stuck in an alternate universe. He shoved Gavin away, his cock sliding out of the younger man's mouth with a slight pop.

 

"What do you think you're doing?" Ryan cried, chest heaving as he scrambled backwards.

 

The apprehension and fear in Gavin's eyes nearly broke his heart.

 

"Y-you always said if I were to visit you in the morning and, and you hadn't yet risen, that- that I should wake you in this manner," Gavin stammered, cowering as if expecting a blow. "Please, if I have done something to displease my King, tell me so I can avoid making such a terrible mistake in the future."

 

"No, no, you've done nothing wrong, I was just... startled, is all. I'd expected to wake up myself sooner." He forced his breathing to steady, trying not to feel wounded by the frightened look Gavin was giving him. _It's not because of you. He thinks you're King James still_.

 

"Would you like me to continue, sire?" Gavin indicated to Ryan's erection, which had started to flag with the negative emotions flooding his body.

 

Ryan shook his head vehemently. "No, there's no need for that," he said hastily. This wasn't _his_ Gavin, after all. It wouldn't be right.

 

Taking the rejection as a further sign of his King's disapproval, Gavin let out a small sob and prostrated himself against the bed. "Please forgive me, sire! Whatever I have done wrong, I swear it was not intentional! Please, allow me to make it up to you."

 

At a loss for what else to do, Ryan pinched the bridge of his nose and forced himself to delve into King James' memories. He'd been avoiding doing so as much as possible, as all of it made him sick to the stomach. But he needed to know why this Gavin was acting the way he was, and the best way to reassure the younger man that he wasn't in any trouble.

 

He shied away as his mind supplied him with the horrible and demeaning ways the King had treated the Gavin of this world. Ryan's eyes flickered to Gavin's neck and for the first time noticed the violently coloured bruises that peeked out from under the loose collar of the younger man's shirt. He swallowed down the bile that rose up in his throat.

 

"Stop your fretting, I am simply exhausted from my studies. I was working rather late last night, and do not have the energy for this at present." Ryan felt a slight headache coming on as he struggled to form sentences that sounded like what this Gavin would expect. He was glad that the language structure here didn't quite seem to match up to what he knew of medieval-style English - while still a lot more formal and stilted than he was used to, at least he wasn't awash in a sea of 'hitherto's and 'verily's that he expected plagued the equivalent time period back in his own world.

 

With a sigh, he cradled his forehead, trying to will away the throbbing sensation of the budding headache. Gavin raised his head and cautiously followed the motion with his eyes.

 

"Do you have a headache, sire? Would you like me to massage your temples for you?" Gavin's voice was timid, the younger man still in a half-crouch.

 

Ryan sensed Gavin's need to be useful, and quickly realised that this was probably the best way to convince him that he hadn't inadvertently displeased the King. Besides, the mere thought of a massage seemed to make the headache recede a little.

 

"That would be most agreeable," Ryan murmured, sliding forward and surreptitiously pulling the blankets over his lower half as he beckoned to Gavin. "Come."

 

Gavin obediently crawled past him, settling back against the pillows heaped in front of the headboard and drawing Ryan's head into his lap. Ryan's eyes slid shut and he sighed as Gavin's cool fingers settled lightly against the sides of his head, pressing ever so gently in rolling circles over his skin. For a fleeting, bittersweet few moments, Ryan was able to pretend that it was _his_ Gavin indulging him with a massage, that he wasn't the victim of a twisted multi-dimensional Freaky Friday scenario. That fantasy could only ever be short-lived, and Ryan struggled to keep the regret off his face when the headache faded and he had to pull away from Gavin's soothing touch. He stood, back to Gavin and trying to ignore the fact that he was naked.

 

"That will be all for now," he said, resolutely looking in the complete opposite direction of where Gavin was sitting.

 

"...But, sire-"

 

" _Leave_." Ryan's jaw tightened with the strain of not showing any sort of compassionate emotion. To Gavin, it signified that the King was getting angry, and the younger man hastily scampered from the bed, quietly slipping out the bedroom door.

 

As soon as the door shut with a soft thud, Ryan sat heavily on the edge of the mattress, burying his face in his hands.

 

How was he supposed to be able to handle all of this? It was fucking _impossible_. If he was reacting like this already, how on earth was he meant to fool anyone when he was listening to the more noteworthy criminal cases when he held council later that day? There was no way he would be able to bring himself to sentence someone to imprisonment in the dungeons, where they would almost certainly be starved and beaten, or for them to be tortured in some form, or even for them to be - he felt sick at just the thought - executed.

 

Although, he probably could fob off those duties to the King's chief advisor, Jack. At least for a while.

 

He felt a small surge of fondness as he dredged up the King's memories of the Jack of this world. This Jack was grimmer than the version Ryan knew, yet still apparently very kind-hearted. He was also not afraid of the King, which was certainly a nice change of pace for Ryan. This Jack knew how much the King relied on him for organising the minutiae of keeping the kingdom functional, which gave him a great deal of sway in the courts - though never enough to come close to rivalling that of the King. James himself had made sure of that. But, this Jack was also a very practical person and was well aware that, distasteful as it might be to him, the King's fear-mongering did in fact keep crime rates down, increased honesty when the kingdom's subjects had to pay their seasonal taxes, and made the populace easier to control on a large scale. Jack was incredibly capable at his job, and would certainly be able to handle running the kingdom himself, at least long enough for Ryan to hopefully find a way back home.

 

Ryan managed a small smile, relieved to have found a temporary solution to at least one of his problems.

 

On to the next - figuring out where the fuck his clothes were supposed to be.

 

He hadn't exactly planned on getting changed back into the clothes he'd been wearing when he arrived in this body, but he'd thought he'd at least have that as a fallback. Obviously not, as some servant seemed to have collected his discarded clothing sometime when he was still asleep. He looked around the room, eyes finally lighting on a wide set of doors to the left of the fireplace. He nearly smacked himself for having managed to miss them as he padded across the room, feet rapidly cooling against the stone floor. He threw the doors open and smiled triumphantly as his assumption was proven correct - this was quite clearly the robing room. He went to reach for a white silken shirt that looked similar to the one he'd worn the day before, but stopped dead as he saw a flicker of motion in the corner of his eye. He whipped his head towards the movement, then almost laughed at his own jumpiness. A highly polished sheet of metal was mounted on the back wall of the room, serving as a mirror. The image was slightly distorted because of the angle that he was looking at it from, so he stepped closer to get a better look. He stopped again.

 

Ryan stared at the person standing in the reflection of the polished metal. As he'd noted the night before, the face was close to what he remembered his own looking like, although this jaw was more defined, skin more tanned, lines forming in different places.

 

But the body - good god, he could barely recognise it as his own. There were several old, faded scars scattered over his arms and legs, physical reminders of swords slicing superficially through skin. One stretched across his ribs, faint with age and the shallow nature of the original injury, tapering off at the base of pecs that were more muscled and defined than the ones he remembered. In fact, his entire body was more muscular than he was used to, hardened by countless hours of sword drills and horse riding that Ryan only had second-hand recollections of. His calloused hands splayed across his abdomen, incredulous at the taut skin underneath his fingertips. He had a goddamn _six-pack_. Ryan had never really concerned himself with the way his body looked - he ate fairly healthily, unless it was cookie day, and it certainly wasn't going to cause the apocalypse if he sometimes carried a little pudge around his midsection - but now he couldn't help but feel ashamed at how much fitter this alternate version of himself was.

 

He didn't want to feel jealous about any aspect of his alternate self. Not when the man whose body he was stuck in was so cruel and vindictive. Avoiding the mirror, Ryan got dressed quickly, struggling a little with the kilt but still managing a passable facsimile of what he knew it should look like. He put on the crown and swung the same heavy cloak as the day before around his shoulders, squaring them as he pushed through the bedroom doors.

 

Now, he had to go to the council room, summon Jack, and inform the advisor that he'd be in charge of things for a few days at least, because the King was close to making a breakthrough with his studies, and needed to focus his energies on working in the labs.

 

By which, of course, he meant that he had to find a way home, and fast. Because he knew that it wasn't altogether likely that nothing had changed back in his own world. He might have simply vanished, leaving everyone he knew frantic as to his whereabouts. He might have slipped into a coma, the meat of his body unoccupied.

 

Or - he pushed the unwelcome thought away - his body might be very much occupied, controlled by the mind of the madman Ryan had inadvertently taken over for.

 

 _Everything will be fine_ , he told himself firmly. _You'll find a way home, nothing will have changed, and you can just pretend this whole thing never even happened._

 

Ryan desperately hoped that if he wished hard enough, it would be true.

 

~* * *~

 

James glanced around the room, taking in all the oddities. The walls were peculiarly smooth, no seams between each stone block. He wondered whether this was because the joins had been covered up in some way, or because each wall was a single slab of rock. He brushed his fingertips against one of the walls and deduced that the former assumption was correct, as the wall didn't feel like stone at all. His eyes lit upon the big windows and he felt a surge of pleasure. Obviously, this alternate version of himself had to be very well-off to be able to afford glass in such quantity and quality.

 

Good. It wouldn't do for any version of himself to be found lacking.

 

His brow furrowed briefly as he felt something tickle the back of his mind, but ignored it and resumed his inspection of the room. He frowned at the small black box sitting on a low table next to the bed. It was sleek as polished obsidian, with strange glowing numbers on the front. The number furthest to the right suddenly changed and he jumped, unnerved by the fact that the time changed on the alarm clock.

 

Wait. How did he know what the black box was called?

 

The tickle grew stronger, and he fell against the desk as a cacophony of images and sounds blurred through his mind. He remembered painting the walls, moving in furniture, arranging decorations and turning his and Gavin's new house into a home-

 

He realised with a jolt that he was experiencing the life of his alternate self.

 

That was certainly unexpected.

 

But, he realised quickly, incredibly useful. It would be far easier to act like he belonged in this world if he already understood it. He glared at the alarm clock, feeling foolish now that he'd been frightened of the harmless device.

 

He focused on the memories he was receiving, and one thing immediately jumped to the forefront of his mind.

 

Gavin.

 

Well, wasn't that _interesting_. His alternate self was in a loving and equal relationship with this reality's version of a man that, in James' world, only had the purpose of existing for the King's satisfaction.

 

How sickeningly domestic.

 

James would have to get to work fixing that right away. He grinned widely at the prospect of being able to break Gavin all over again.

 

Things just kept getting better by the minute.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have some smut!
> 
> Not entirely happy with how this chapter came out, I hope it's still an enjoyable read.

"I do not see why you're struggling so much to grasp this."

 

Jack fought to keep his confused exasperation from showing. "But, sire... You cannot simply abandon the kingdom's needs and seclude yourself in your laboratory! People will think you do not care about the welfare of the kingdom. It will cause unrest. That is one of the downsides to your style of ruling - you cannot waver or relent."

 

Ryan pushed down his own opinions on the King's terrorisation of the masses and instead narrowed his eyes slightly. "I am far from abandoning my duties, I am naming you to act in my stead while I attend to my experiments. I fail to see how this is a problem, unless you are not as capable as you have made yourself out to be." He let his lips thin into a serious line, his eyes hard. "I will also thank you to not overly criticise the way I rule my kingdom. We have had numerous discussions on the subject, and I feel you've beaten the topic to death quite thoroughly."

 

"Be that as it may," Jack continued stubbornly, "I am finding it difficult to understand your pressing need to complete-"

 

"That is exactly why, Jack," Ryan interrupted, tone firm. "I am on the _cusp_ of succeeding in my experiments. I believe I have located a reality ideal for my purposes. You realise that when I complete that crossing, that it will not just be a great feat of science, but will also bring great benefits to this kingdom - tools and developments years beyond what we have here." He noticed the doubtful look on Jack's face and hid a scowl. Jack was one of the many sceptics of the King's notions of alternate universes, and it really wasn't making Ryan's job any easier. Even worse, there was actually a lot of truth in what he was telling Jack; apart from proving that he was right, Ryan had discovered that James had plotted the crossing over into Ryan's world with the intent of finding plans for advanced technologies, then memorising them in order to bring them back with him. Ryan shuddered to think of how much this medieval reality would change if James came back with the blueprints in his head for cannons, guns, and anything else he could get his hands on. With the convenience of the internet, it wouldn't be particularly difficult for him, either.

 

"Sire..."

 

"Do not look at me like that, Jack. I know very well your opinion of my experiments." He sighed. "Stop acting as if plan to leave you with this for months on end. I only need a few more days, at most a week."

 

Jack's shoulders finally slumped in acquiescence, and Ryan could have shouted with joy if it wouldn't break character.

 

The advisor inclined his head. "Very well, sire. I will inform the council of the situation."

 

"Good." He waved his hand in the direction of the door. "You are dismissed."

 

Jack bowed low, then straightened, spinning on his heel and silently heading for the door.

 

Relieved, Ryan slumped in his seat, rubbing his face vigorously. That had actually worked out more quickly than he'd expected. It was already getting easier for Ryan to assume that mantle of power, and the fact that he wasn't finding it altogether difficult to slip into the persona of King James was quite frankly terrifying to him.

 

Letting out a shaky breath, he waited a few more moments so that he could recompose himself, then left the room.

 

He'd managed to buy himself a few days. Now, to put them to use and find a way home before anyone had the chance to realise that he wasn't who he was pretending to be.

 

~* * *~

 

James ignored the clothes strewn on the floor next to the mostly empty laundry basket, kicking the cupboard doors closed as he headed out of the bedroom.

 

He found Gavin where Ryan had left him, scrubbing furiously at some leftover dishes. With a smirk, James padded towards him, imagining all the ways he could teach the younger man exactly who he belonged to. His hands itched to wrap around Gavin's throat, to throttle all the love and trust and tender feeling out of Gavin's body, but he restrained himself. He had to ease into this, or it would be nowhere near as gratifying in the end. It would be so much better to see Gavin slowly fracture, piece by piece, until that one thing that James did that would tip him over the edge and irrevocably shatter him. James would break Gavin, and if and when Ryan returned to his rightful body - for all his thoughts on what a pathetic specimen his alternate self was turning out to be, James had little doubt that Ryan was intelligent enough to find a way back - he'd be faced with the task of rebuilding the man he'd loved. James' smile grew wider with the knowledge of how futile a task it would be. How Gavin would never be truly able to trust that it wouldn't happen again, and how Ryan would never be sure that James wouldn't cross again to ruin any progress he made, simply because the mad King could.

 

With fluid, silent movements, James moved until he was standing just behind Gavin, who still hadn't noticed him. _How easy it would be_... he mused, then shook himself. There would be time for that later.

 

The younger man let out an entertaining squeak as James leaned against his back and pressed his palm against the front of Gavin's pants.

 

"You're taking too long," James growled against Gavin's ear, teeth tugging at the lobe.

 

"Ah- _Ryan_ -" he whined, jumping as James cupped him through his jeans. "You were the one complaining that I never clean up the dishes after I use them, you smegpot-"

 

James frowned at the insolent tone. That definitely needed to be fixed.

 

He pressed his hand a little more firmly against Gavin. "Is that a refusal?"

 

Gavin laughed, mistaking the dangerous edge to James' voice as something more playful, and twisted his body to look at the older man. "'Course not, you dope! I was just surprised, you don't usually do this."

 

"Well, looks like that's going to change."

 

The Brit lidded his eyes seductively. " _Well_ , I look forward to it." He peeled off the dishwashing gloves and darted out of James' grip, skipping lightly in the direction of the bedroom. James stalked after the sound of lightly echoing giggles, grabbing Gavin by the waist, making the younger man squeal as he was lifted off his feet. He sucked a small hickey onto the junction of Gavin's neck, and kept his arm hooked securely around the Brit's middle as he put Gavin down, chasing the younger man's feet with his own. Gavin scuttled forward, letting out a short yelp as James slapped him on the ass. With a lingering kiss on the older man's lips, Gavin squirmed his way free and bounced onto the bed. He grinned cockily.

 

"If you want me, come get me, love."

 

James immediately pounced on him with predatory grace, catching Gavin's wrists and pinning them to the bed. Gavin's eyes widened at the unexpected speed of movement, as well as the older man's sudden proximity.

 

"Got you."

 

"Ryan-" he gasped, and then James' mouth was upon his, the kiss demanding. But Gavin didn't realise that the change that had come over his boyfriend was far more sinister than it appeared, and he returned the kiss with fervour. Gavin's back arched away from the bed, pressing their bodies together and making their growing erections rub against each other.

 

James pulled away suddenly, releasing Gavin's hands but still straddling him. "Strip," he said softly, the words almost, but not quite, a command. It was still forceful enough to quickly goad Gavin into peeling off his shirt. James raised an eyebrow when he stopped there. "Keep going."'

 

Gavin's hand slid lower as the older man leaned in to kiss him again, and he fumbled at his zipper, letting out a little panting breath into the other man's mouth as his knuckles brushed against James' clothed erection.

 

He cursed his own choice in clothing as he struggled to get out of his skinny jeans while still being straddled. James offered no assistance as he tried to squirm his way out of his pants, but eventually Gavin prevailed, kicking the denim off over his feet. "Boxers too?" he mumbled against the older man's lips.

 

"What do you think?" was the low reply. Gavin obediently shimmied out of his underwear, suddenly feeling oddly vulnerable because he was completely naked and the man above him was fully clothed. The admiring, hungry look in the older man's eyes as they raked down Gavin's body made him shiver in anticipation and went some ways in soothing his concerns.

 

They'd been dating for just over a year, Gavin reminded himself. He trusted Ryan, knew that the older man knew about Gavin's issues with commitment - god, it had taken everything he had to ask Ryan out in the first place, and even then he hadn't been entirely sober - and he trusted that Ryan would never do anything to intentionally harm him. Gavin told himself not to get worked up over something so trivial, and instead slid his hands under the hem of James' shirt, fingers splayed across the older man's back and pulling him close. His hands travelled upwards, taking the shirt with them, and James shrugged the fabric over his head.

 

The Brit let his hands trail down again, working at the zipper on the older man's jeans. For his part, James dipped his head down just below Gavin's jawline, kissing and lightly biting before suddenly sucking a very visible mark onto the side of Gavin's neck. Gavin gasped at the unexpected sensation, hands stilling.

 

"Ah- really, Ryan?" he asked breathlessly, trying to sound more exasperated than aroused. It was a failed attempt. "We've got work tomorrow, people'll _see_ -"

 

"Too late to be mentioning it now," James replied in a smug tone, deliberately darkening the hickey further. "Besides, everyone already knows you're mine." Before the younger man could reply, James caught Gavin's lips between his own once more.

 

Gavin returned to undoing James' pants, determined to get both of them in the same state of undress. With a small amount of fumbling, Gavin pushed the waistband of both James' jeans and underwear down his thighs, making the older man hiss quietly into Gavin's mouth as his cock met the open air. James kicked his pants off and promptly took both himself and Gavin in hand simultaneously. Gavin made a soft noise at the feeling of the older man's cock against his, of James' hand sliding over both their lengths, thumb flicking across their tips. He pumped up and down a few times, then let himself go, focusing entirely on Gavin and turning the younger man into a quivering puddle of want. James drank in the sounds that slipped past Gavin's lips, fingers sliding across Gavin's tip once more and spreading the precome there down the shaft.

 

"Ryan, c'mon," he whined as James continued to tease him.

 

"What, Gavin?" James murmured, maintaining an infuriatingly insufficient amount of stimulus.

 

"Fuck me, you nob," he retorted impatiently, whimpering and bucking upwards.

 

"You're not being very polite," James mocked.

 

" _Ryan_ , please!"

 

The older man pulled away, making Gavin whimper again at the loss of contact, and sauntered over to the bedside table, digging around in it for lube and a condom. He moved deliberately slowly, enjoying the pitiful sounds that Gavin was making.

 

"Hands and knees," James instructed, and Gavin obeyed quickly, trembling with need. The delicious moan that escaped Gavin when James hopped back onto the bed, pushing a slicked finger into him, made the older man grin ferociously. As soon as Gavin was ready for it, James added a second finger, then a third. Gavin writhed beneath him.

 

"R-Ryan, _please_ ," he begged, and James took his fingers out of Gavin's hole. James frowned at the condom briefly, having grabbed it because of Ryan's muscle memory more than anything, but quickly discerned its purpose. He tore at the packaging, rolled the condom onto himself, and pressed into Gavin. Gavin groaned at the slow, burning heat inexorably filling him, panting in desperate gasps as the older man bottomed out. Once Gavin was close enough to ready, James withdrew almost all the way before thrusting back in, making Gavin's hands clench in the sheets as he whispered his boyfriend's name. James set up a pace that was just shy of demanding, and Gavin arched beneath him, sinful sounds falling from his lips like rain.

 

 _I sincerely hope that you remember this when you return to your body, Ryan_ , James thought, smirking wickedly. _I hope that you remember that your little boyfriend didn't even realise that there was something strange going on before I fucked him_. He made a point of looking down at where his body and Gavin's met, pounding into the younger man extra hard. Gavin cried out, coming over the sheets and clenching around the older man. James let pleasure flood him, and released into the condom, burying himself deep in Gavin for a few moments before rolling off him.

 

"I... Wow, that was incredible, Ryan." Gavin fell back against the covers, panting heavily. "I mean, don't get me wrong, I love the way we normally have sex,  but... sometimes it kinda feels like you're worried I'll... break, or something, I dunno."

 

James let out a soft snort. "You're not made of glass."

 

Gavin kissed his jaw. "It's nice to see you realising that. You know you don't have to be so careful with me." He snuggled against the older man's chest, sighing after a few seconds of silence. "We really should hop in the shower, but this is too bloody comfortable."

 

James grunted noncommittally, repressing a shudder of revulsion as how nauseatingly tender he was being forced to act. But, repulsive as it was, it was necessary. If James treated this Gavin like the one from his own reality straight away, the younger man would probably just leave before James could properly break him, and that just wouldn't do.

 

It was a good thing that James could be very patient when he needed to be.

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, just a quick note to let you know that this chapter is entirely in the alternate medieval world that Ryan's stuck in, because it ran way longer than I thought it would. Next chapter will be entirely in the 'real' world to compensate.
> 
> Also, I'm going to be super, super busy up until next Wednesday (really, I didn't exactly have the time to spare to write this chapter, but I would've felt bad if I just left you guys in the lurch), so don't expect any new fic stuff until at least next Friday, probably later.
> 
> And another thing, I'm seriously considering changing the title of this fic to "Not In Your Right Mind', because puns. What do you guys think?
> 
> Content warning for an itty bitty bit of nudity, and also a quick, somewhat vague appearance of those dead bodies in James' lab. (The two are unrelated, I promise.)

Trying to read the King's flowing handwriting was making Ryan's eyes ache, like they were about to give up and just melt out of their sockets.

 

He blinked painfully a few times and squinted, slogging his way through another ornately lettered sentence. The book itself was a godsend - James was nothing if not a scientist at heart, and had kept meticulous records of all his lab work. Even with the memories of the set-up of the experiment that had switched their minds, Ryan knew he would have struggled to successfully switch them back otherwise. He just wished the looping script was a little less difficult to decipher.

 

Slowly but surely, he toiled through the thick leather-bound book, transcribing his own copy into a blank journal to make things easier for himself when it came time to initiate the crossing. Several words he came across described objects and processes that he'd never so much as heard of, some of which he suspected only existed in this world. In fact, he was starting to think that magic might actually be a thing that existed in this world, because he couldn't really see there being much of a scientific explanation for what had happened. If so, then it would be impossible for James to cross back over himself. He wondered briefly if the King had accounted for that possibility when he'd travelled to Ryan’s world. Maybe he'd been arrogant enough to assume that any alternate version of himself would be able to figure things out and send each of them back to their own reality. Maybe it just hadn't occurred to him at all.

 

With a grimace, he rubbed at his eyes in an attempt to make them focus. He was glad that James hadn't managed to develop the same far-sightedness that Ryan had, but the hours he'd already spent going through the book was still making his vision swim. He copied out a few more sentences before the words started to run into each other again.

 

He let out an aggravated sound and reluctantly admitted to himself that he needed to take a break. He briefly sorted through James' memories in search of a non-violent activity that it wouldn't be unusual to see the King participate in. After he skipped over public executions and having a practice duel with one of the knights, he quickly settled on horse-riding. He'd ridden himself a few times as a child, so he wasn't a complete stranger to it, and he figured that the muscle memory of James' body would take care of his rustiness. At least, he hoped it would. It would be a bit awkward explaining to the knights accompanying him why he was sitting on the horse like a sack of potatoes.

 

Which was the only real downside to the idea. There was no way he could ride out of the castle by himself. Despite the low overall rate of crime - largely due to James’ iron-fisted rule - like any kingdom, James' lands had their fair share of bandits and brigands. To ride out without at least two guards with him would only invite trouble. Still, if he stayed in the lab for much longer, at this rate he'd probably start tearing the sheets of parchment in his frustration.

 

He closed the books with a solid thump, standing and making his way back to the royal chambers to get changed. He stripped off the kilt gladly when he got there, not quite yet used to the way the loose fabric sat against his bare legs. Not to mention that the King was a traditionalist in the sense that he didn't have any underwear suited to being worn under a kilt. It still made Ryan a little self-conscious to be wearing what was, in essence, a skirt with nothing underneath it, and slipped on a pair of white riding pants and a set of long socks with something akin to glee. Black leather boots that came most of the way up his calves were next, and he almost let out a chuckle at the fact that he was practically wearing knee-high boots. "Good thing I'm not still wearing a fucking skirt," he muttered to himself as he forced the shaped leather over his feet. Over the top of his pants, he buckled on a sword belt, fingers tracing over the simple but beautiful pommel of the sword before moving on. He switched the ornate overcoat that he was wearing for one that was less adorned and more comfortable in design, also adding a shorter riding cape fastened at his neck with a gold clasp. He checked himself over quickly in the mirror, then headed out to the stables.

 

He sent one of the messengers stationed there to the guardhouse to fetch a few men to ride out with him, then waited for the stable hands to saddle up his horse. He'd been half-expecting a huge, monstrous black beast with rolling eyes and a foul temper. To his relief, he found that the horse he would be riding was instead a spirited roan with a dark mane and tail - still a powerfully built creature, but with a slenderness to its legs which indicated that it was bred more for speed than strength. The King did, of course, also own a war charger that more than fit the cliché, but it wouldn't make a great deal of sense to take an animal like that on a pleasure ride.

 

"My King, I did not realise you were riding out today," a voice said behind him, and he turned to see a man in light armour giving him a small bow. It took him a moment to recognise Burnie under the gear.

 

"It was something of an impromptu decision, Captain," he replied, accepting the reins for his horse from one of the hands. "I have been cooped up in my laboratory all day, and felt some fresh air and activity would do me good."

 

The Captain looked distinctly uncomfortable. "Oh? Those experiments of yours coming along well, then?"

 

"Quite." Ryan replied crisply, recognising another sceptic of James' work. "Who have you brought with you to ride out today?" he asked, eyes flicking momentarily to the man behind Burnie.

 

He looked glad for the change in topic. "Young lad by the name of Adam Ellis. An exceptional and dependable swordsman in his own right, due to receive his knighthood by spring."

 

"My King," the to-be knight murmured respectfully, bowing to Ryan.

 

"Very well. Pick your horses and join me at the gate." Ryan led his own stallion into the courtyard and mounted it in a swift motion, privately relieved that James' body was familiar enough with the movement already that he didn't have to fumble through with his own limited knowledge.

 

The ride was not a conversational one, which didn't really bother Ryan. If anything, he appreciated not having to struggle through the stiff, formal sentence structure to speak like someone who belonged in this world. Instead, he could just let his mind clear, focusing instead keeping himself balanced on the rhythmically surging body beneath him, the speed making the wind rush through his hair.

 

It was the best he'd felt since he'd entered this reality.

 

All too soon, of course, they had to return to the castle. Ryan felt his heart sink a little at the prospect of toiling through what was left of James' experimental notes - which was most of them - but knew exactly how important it was that he did it as fast as possible. However, the ride had left him sweaty and dirty, and a good bath was in order before he went back to the lab.

 

One of the stableboys had informed he castle staff that the King had gone out riding, and he found that a hot bath had already been drawn for him when he reached the royal chambers, the water kept warm in the glowing heat of the fireplace. Steam wisped from the surface of the water and he slowly lowered himself into the tub, eyes sliding closed in bliss as the hot water surrounded him. The scent of rose hips drifted up to him in the curls of steam, and as much as he objected to the fact that he was going to smell like flowers when he got out of the bath, he objected even more to smelling of caked mud and stale sweat. He worked a soft cloth over his body, washing away the grime of the past day and a half. He couldn't believe it had been less than two days since he'd been sucked out of his own reality; it felt like it had been at least two weeks.

 

His fingertips had started to soften and wrinkle by the time he regretfully sighed and stood in the tub, water streaming from his body. He grabbed a towel that had been left for him on a chair next to the bath, and wrapped it around himself before stepping out, immediately creating a small puddle on the floor. He towelled himself off, rubbing the cloth over his hair and keeping his body warm next to the fire.

 

One quick clothing-change and hasty hair-combing later, Ryan was trudging his way back to the lab. He did his best to ignore the flesh-stripped human carcasses hung up on the opposite side of the room as he made his way over to the desk. He'd have to do something about those, because even knowing they were there was making his stomach want to rebel against him. He rubbed a hand over his face. _That's another job for tomorrow_ , he thought wearily, his back already protesting as he sat down once more.

 

He worked until his brain simply refused to grant him the ability to decipher the King's handwriting. He was still barely halfway, and resigned himself to the fact that he'd be stuck doing the same thing the next day. With a sigh and a groan, his stood up, the bones in his spine popping. It was a few hours past sunset, he knew, but had little idea what time it actually was. A servant had come in at one point, to deliver him dinner and light the torches on the walls for him about half an hour before sunset, but other than that he'd remained undisturbed. He missed having a watch or a phone to check the time with more than he ever would have thought reasonable, but now that he didn't have such things readily available he realised what a pain in the ass it was not to have them.

 

One thing that _was_ incredibly convenient about this reality, he had to admit, was that he could just leave things lying about whenever he was done with them and they'd get cleared away for him. He closed the books and put them back on their shelf, just for safety, but left all his dinner dishes on the desk as he scooped up the crown and cloak before leaving, his body on autopilot as he made his way to the royal chambers.

 

His back and shoulders ached, and the crown felt much heavier on his head than it actually was. With a dissatisfied sigh, he pushed open the bedroom door, intent on immediately collapsing on the bed.

 

Instead, he found Gavin sitting on his knees against the covers, naked, completely hard and with a vulnerable expression on his face.

 

Ryan came close to groaning at the provocative sight, forcing himself to focus on Gavin's fear-filled eyes over everything else to quell the sudden desire burning low in his gut.

 

Gavin gave him an awkward half-bow, cheeks pink. "I have prepared myself for you, sire."

 

"Gavin," he sighed, struggling to speak in a normal tone of voice. "Put your clothes back on."

 

The younger man gave him that same frightened look he'd given Ryan that morning, like he thought that he'd done something to offend Ryan but had no clue as to what that something would be. Only that the repercussions, when they came, would be unpleasant.

 

"Please, sire," he choked, tears prickling at the corners of his eyes. "Please tell me what it is that I have done wrong."

 

"You have done nothing wrong." Ryan kept his tone hard and clipped, instead of gentle and calm like he wanted to. As much as he wanted to soothe the younger man, he knew that soft words would only make Gavin expect some sort of harsh physical punishment. It was a favourite trick of James', to give Gavin a moment of tenderness before tearing it away from him. Showing kindness would really be the cruellest thing for Ryan to do, because all it would do was leave Gavin even more tense and fearful than before. Not only that, but as time went on and Gavin received no punishment from his King, he might even begin to suspect that something was going on. "I am simply too tired for any excessive physical activity at this moment. I have been working in my laboratory all day, and my back aches from being hunched over a desk for so many hours."

 

Gavin took the hint as he scrambled for his pants. "Do you wish for me to give you a massage, sire?"

 

"Indeed," Ryan replied, hanging up the crown and cloak. He headed for the bed, discarding his black coat and white undershirt as he went. He had to fight the urge to groan in satisfaction as he sank into the mattress. Gavin dressed himself sloppily, the laces of his pants and shirt left undone, and he sat back down about level with Ryan's waist. He leaned over the older man's back and pressed his fingers against Ryan's shoulders. His thumbs dug lightly into the knotted muscles, slowly smoothing them over. Ryan's eyes slid shut and he sighed softly as Gavin worked away the aches and pains that had settled on him during the day.

 

It was immediately apparent that Gavin was just as good at giving back massages as head massages, and Ryan had to stop himself from moaning at the painfully pleasurable sensation Gavin's deft fingers were delivering. He couldn't help occasionally giving an appreciative grunt as Gavin kneaded away a particularly resistant knot, palms pushing firmly against Ryan's skin.

 

Ryan knew he couldn't keep fobbing off sex in exchange for massages. Gavin would figure out something was up before long. But, even if he put aside the moral dilemma of whether or not sleeping with an alternate reality version of Gavin would be constituted as cheating or not, Ryan also knew he'd never be able to have sex with this Gavin in the way the younger man expected - without love, without tenderness, without any concern for Gavin's physical state at the end of it. James rarely cared about how Gavin felt when they had a sexual encounter, except for the times when he found it amusing to tease Gavin until the younger man was begging and sobbing for release. It just wasn't in Ryan's nature to do something like that, and if his previous behaviour hadn't already made Gavin suspicious that something was going on, the fact that Ryan would be incapable of doing anything less than making love to him definitely would.

 

But, for now, he could relish in the way Gavin's skilled hands were working his body over. He felt himself relax almost completely under Gavin's ministrations, the full force of his exhaustion catching up with him. After working out the worst of the knots in Ryan's muscles, Gavin's touch became feather light and despite everything, Ryan felt himself slowly and inexorably drifting off to sleep.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As promised, this chapter is all James. Enjoy!
> 
> Content warnings for lovely, lovely smut, hand/blowjobs in particular.

After lying in the bed with Gavin snuggled up against him for as long as he could possibly stand, James got up and declared his intention of taking a shower. Gavin mumbled something sleepily about joining him, to which James rolled his eyes and replied that if Gavin joined him, they would end up less clean than before. Gavin made a vague noise and waved a hand lazily in his general direction before rolling over and burying his face in his pillow.

 

Showering itself was something of a novel experience for James. He had to admit, it did feel really nice to have the hot water pounding against his back, and he could see how having a shower would get someone cleaner than sitting in a bath, washing themselves with the same increasingly dirty water. He stepped out, steam wisping from his damp skin as he reached for a towel that was, to him, remarkably soft against his skin.

 

He dried himself off and walked, naked, from the en suite back to the master bedroom, where Gavin had all but passed out. James pulled on a pair of sweatpants and a sleeping shirt before shaking the Brit awake.

 

"Wha?" Gavin asked blearily.

 

"Get in the shower. You're gross and you're stinking up the bed."

 

Gavin stuck his tongue out and rolled out of the bed, stumbling into the en suite. James waited impatiently for him to get himself cleaned up. Luckily for him, Gavin was an efficient showerer, and returned a few minutes later, tugging on a clean pair of boxers and a shirt before crawling back into bed, draping himself against James' body. James was sure that his revulsion was showing on his face, but Gavin's eyes were already closed so it didn't matter.

 

Once Gavin's breathing evened out into the deep, even tempo of sleep, James extricated himself from the younger man's grip, tucking the blanket around him to prevent Gavin from getting cold in his absence and waking up. He slipped out of the bedroom and padded quietly to the living room, turning on the TV and immediately muting the sound.

 

If he was going to fool anyone into thinking that he was Ryan rather than an imposter, he had to rely on more than just the second-hand memories that came to him whenever he focused on a particular subject. He had to admit, he probably would have been in a lot of trouble without them, but he knew that Gavin and the others would start to suspect if he had to pause and think before absolutely everything.

 

He fired up the Xbox and grabbed the controller, the cool moulded plastic feeling both foreign and familiar. It was a curious sensation - the experience was entirely new to his mind, but the hands he was controlling gripped the plastic with the memory of doing so thousands and thousands of times before.

 

After a bit of a rocky start, the skill came to him with surprising rapidity, and he quickly cycled through several genres of gaming to familiarise himself with each control scheme. He lingered longest over the FPS games and GTAV, the pure unbridled violence drawing him in and bringing a smile to his face. He could easily understand how so many people could devote their lives to videogames as he fired another RPG into a swarm of digitised policemen, the screen lighting up with the explosion.

 

Next, he played around with Ryan's phone, spending about half an hour getting used to the features and scrolling briefly through a few apps. Once he understood it to his satisfaction, he moved onto the computer in the small office that Gavin and Ryan shared.

 

Mastering the PC to an acceptable degree took a little longer than the others, because of the more technical knowledge that James knew he'd have to employ as 'the PC guy'. All up, it was close to 5 in the morning before he finished up, sliding under the bedcovers with an oblivious Gavin, who hadn't seemed to notice his absence at all.

 

The minimal amount of sleep he would get before he had to wake up didn't really faze him. He was used to functioning well on only a few hours of rest, a skill he'd trained himself into through the harsh conditions of warfare and many late nights spent locked away in his lab. On more than one occasion, he'd become so engrossed in his lab work that he wouldn't sleep for days on end, just to see whatever experiment he was working on through to completion all the more quickly. With the practiced ease of a battle-hardened soldier, James closed his eyes and drifted into unconsciousness.

 

~* * *~

 

In the morning, Gavin whined about the high visibility of his hickey, which had bloomed and darkened spectacularly overnight. He scowled at the bathroom mirror, stretching his neck and observing the purple mark with distaste. James walked up behind him, arm circling possessively around Gavin's midsection as he pulled the younger man firmly against his chest. "I told you," he said, his voice a low purr, "I'm just giving you and everyone else a reminder of who you belong to."

 

Gavin's breath hitched almost imperceptibly at the dark, seductive look James was giving him in the mirror, and he sank against the older man's chest, relenting.

 

"Now that you've stopped sulking, hurry up and get ready. We've got to go soon."

 

~* * *~

 

James was furious with himself for somehow managing to forget the fact that he had to drive both himself and Gavin to work that day. He managed to get them to the office without hitting anyone or anything, but he knew that the ride would have been bumpier than Gavin was used to, and mentally berated himself for slipping up so badly. To exacerbate things, he wasn't entirely comfortable with the speeds that the car could travel at. Thankfully, due to Austin's near-constant issues with traffic, he didn't have to approach within several miles of the highway speed limit, but they were still going fast enough to make James' knuckles tighten around the steering wheel. He fobbed off his less-than-stellar driving skills as the side-effect of a poor night's sleep, and to his relief Gavin accepted the explanation readily enough. James held open the Stage 5 door for Gavin, as he knew Ryan always did, and they both made their way to the Achievement Hunter office.

 

It was Monday, so James dove immediately into finishing the edit for that week's GTAV Let's Play. He was glad that Ryan had all but finished it, leaving him with only an hour or so worth of work on the file before he put it to the time-consuming process of rendering later in the day, once they'd filmed the day's Let's Plays.

 

Gavin, as was his norm, struck up a conversation with Michael before actually doing any work, not even bothering to pretend to be clicking things on his screen. James listened with half an ear, his headphones sitting wonkily on his head so that he could still edit while vaguely eavesdropping on the conversation. He wasn't paying a particularly huge amount of attention to what they were saying, up until Michael suddenly stopped midsentence, staring at the dark and very obvious mark on the side of Gavin's neck.

 

"Is that a _hickey_?"

 

Gavin went red, shifting the fabric of his hoodie to cover the bruised patch of skin. "Shut up."

 

The red-head laughed, looking over at the obvious culprit. "Ryan, you dog," he grinned. James shrugged with a smirk.

 

"Well, I mean, technically Gavin's the bitch, so..."

 

Michael cackled with laughter as Gavin let out one of his patented squawks, the Brit's cheeks reddening even further.

 

"Hey, Gavin, blush hard enough and it'll probably just blend in," the curly-haired Lad teased relentlessly, eliciting a chuckle from James.

 

"You're both horrible," Gavin mumbled, tugging at his hoodie again and turning back to his computer.

 

James slipped his headphones into their proper position and got back to his own work, gradually falling into the flow of editing.

 

When it came time to film the day's Let's Plays and miscellaneous content, James was almost disgusted by how easily the others brushed off his darker and more questionable commentary as just another case of 'Ryan being creepy'. He had to admit that it wasn't particularly difficult to slip into the 'Mad King Ryan' personality for the videos, even if the so-called jokes he was making - was it still a joke if he actually wanted to go through with harming them? - were a laughably watered-down version of what he was actually capable of.

 

~* * *~

 

Michael had no idea how much James wanted to kill him when the younger man beat him in that day's recording of VS. The King was not a gracious loser.

 

To be fair, he wasn't a particularly pleasant winner either.

 

"Suck a dick, Ryan!" Michael yelled, blissfully unaware of James' thoughts and triumphantly shaking the belt over his head.

 

James shrugged with one shoulder, a smirk on his face as he imagined hewing the limbs from the curly-haired Lad's body. "Nah. That's Gavin's job."

 

The office erupted in laughter as Gavin blushed profusely, Ray calling out a cheerful, "Fucking got 'im!"

 

Lindsay and Kdin let their phones drop and ended their recordings, Lindsay giving the rest of the Achievement Hunters a thumbs up to let them know they were done. Everyone congratulated Michael on his victory, even James, although the displaced monarch was envisioning smashing Michael's face into unrecognisability.  Grinning, Michael accepted their praise affably, and they all made their way back to their respective desks.

 

Except for James, who sidled up behind Gavin's chair, where the Brit in question was already sitting.

 

"Hey, Gav. Mind coming and helping me with something?" he asked, placing a hand on the younger man's shoulder.

 

"Really, Ryan?" he whined in response. "I just sat down and everything."

 

James voice became low and smooth. "I'd _really_ appreciate your help right now," he said softly, hand trailing lingeringly down Gavin's arm as he drew back. Gavin's pupils dilated slightly as he caught on to the older man's meaning.

 

Gavin let out a theatrical sigh. "Fine." He put on a show of dragging his feet as he followed James out of the Achievement Hunter office, but dropped the act as soon as the door closed behind them. James led them both to one of the partitioned rooms of Stage 5 that wasn't currently in use, and was instead occupied by miscellaneous boxes and props. They both glanced around briefly before sneaking into the room, softly clicking the door shut behind them.

 

The Brit grinned. "Feeling bad for losing VS?" He squawked as James reached out and pulled him closer, practically making the younger man fall against him.

 

"Well, I was hoping you'd be able to make me feel better about it," James replied, the words rumbling through Gavin's chest.

 

"Is that right?" Gavin purred, hooding his eyelids.

 

"Mm." James hummed in the affirmative and pressed his lips down onto Gavin's. He backed the Lad up against the closest wall, encompassing the smaller man's body with his own. Gavin let out a whimper at the pressure of James' body against his, hands clutching at the older man's shoulders as he sought to deepen the kiss. James easily took control from him, tongue delving deep as he pushed one of his legs between Gavin's thighs, rutting against the younger man and letting him feel the insistent press of James' growing erection. "Going to make me feel good, are you, Gavin?" he murmured, breath washing hotly over the shell of Gavin's ear. Gavin shivered at the sensation as James pulled back, giving Gavin the space to move. He immediately took that space to get on his knees, making the older man smirk.

 

For a moment, Gavin fumbled with James' belt. Then the older man's pants were pushed down his thighs and Gavin was taking him in hand, stroking him the rest of the way to hardness. James threaded his fingers into Gavin's soft, golden brown hair, and Gavin licked his lips before wrapping them around the older man's cock. Gavin slowly inched his way down, licking and sucking as he went, while his right hand cupped and massaged James' balls.

 

About five months into their relationship, Gavin had given Ryan a surprise birthday present - he'd secretly taught himself how to suppress his hair-trigger gag reflex enough to be able to give a proper blowjob. Now, he employed those skills to full effect, squeezing the thumb of his left hand against his palm as he swallowed James down to the hilt. The older man held Gavin against him, head tipped back and eyes slitted with pleasure, until he felt the Brit starting to struggle to keep from choking, at which point he let Gavin go. Gavin's right hand dropped to nestle between his own legs, rocking his body back and forth to produce friction for himself as James guided Gavin back into deep-throating him.

 

It wasn't long before James' slow thrusts began to lose their rhythm, his hips jerking forward as he spilled down the back of Gavin's throat. The younger man pulled off with a tiny cough, his lips pink and slightly swollen. James did up his pants and drew Gavin to his feet, teeth latching onto the hickey he'd left on the younger man's neck the night before, pressing Gavin up against the wall again. The way that Gavin's erection was straining against the zipper of his jeans was getting close to painful, and he let out a whine, bucking his hips against James. Obligingly, James flipped him around, chest flush against Gavin's back as his hand snaked around the younger man's front and popped the button on his pants, undoing the zipper quickly after. Gavin's breath hitched as James' hand slid into the space between Gavin's underwear and his jeans, pushing firmly against the swollen flesh.

 

The Brit let out a moan that he muffled against his forearm. James massaged him briefly through the thin fabric of his boxers, then pushed the underwear, along with the jeans covering them, midway down Gavin's thighs. Warm fingers wrapped around Gavin's cock and the younger man smothered another moan. James pumped Gavin to orgasm with practiced efficiency, leaving the younger man panting and twitching as he shot his load against the wall.

 

James stepped back and Gavin sagged against the wall, breathing heavily and fighting to recompose himself.

 

"Haven't done that in the office for a while," he managed through heady gasps for air that slowly started to even themselves out.

 

James rummaged through a few of the scattered boxes, eventually locating a roll of paper towels, which he passed to Gavin with an affirmative noise. Gavin grinned at him, wiping away the worst of the mess before balling up the paper towel and lobbing it across the room, where it disappeared among the myriad of boxes.

 

"Really, Gavin?"

 

"Oh, come on, it'll be ages before anyone finds that, and they won't know if it's actually what it looks like it is."

 

James rolled his eyes as Gavin finished doing up his jeans, opening the door and walking out.

 

As always happened whenever the two left the room together, then returned, the rest of the Achievement Hunters were heavy-handed with lewd comments about their absence.

 

"You guys took a while," Geoff drawled, a lazy smile tugging at his lips.

 

"Yeah, you banging each other in the closets at work now?" Michael called out, throwing a grin at them over his shoulder.

 

"Nah, wouldn't be that," Ray interjected with mock-seriousness. "Sucking dicks is Gavin's job, isn't that right, Ryan?"

 

James raised an eyebrow. "It seems like you're fishing for details about any clandestine activities Gavin and I might have undertaken in this building. Is that what you really want?"

 

"Fair enough."

 

With a smirk, James swivelled his chair to face his screen, settling back as he got to work.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James starts his manipulations; meanwhile, drama unfolds on Ryan's end of things (because that's exactly what he needs).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warning for some sweet, sweet lovin'.

It seemed like a normal night to Gavin, just sitting on the couch watching TV with his boyfriend, but there was a strange undercurrent of tension thrumming between them that he couldn't place. At first, he hadn't even noticed it; but it was one of those things that once you realised it was there, there was no ignoring it. Gavin squirmed a little in his seat, trying to focus on the TV show neither of them were actually paying much attention to, but as he felt his leg start to bounce from the inexplicable nervous energy, he decided to break the tension. He'd never really been one to tiptoe around things, and preferred to get to the heart of the matter in one fell swoop. He grabbed the remote and switched off the TV, squeezing the older man's hand to ensure his undivided attention.

 

"Ryan, what's up?" Gavin slid his hands over the older man's shoulders. "I can tell something's wrong. What is it? You can tell me." 

 

James shrugged him off and turned away. "It's nothing. It's stupid, don't worry about it." 

 

Gavin smiled ruefully. "You're making it hard not to, Rye." He draped himself against James' back. "C'mon, what is it? I bet it's not stupid." 

 

The older man sighed, extricating himself from Gavin's grasp and turning towards the Brit. "It's really petty," he began, making himself look as embarrassed as possible. "I mean, you did it even before we started dating, and I know it doesn't mean anything, but I can't help it. I feel like an asshole for asking you to stop, because it's just what you  _do_." 

 

"Do what?" Gavin queried, eyebrows furrowed. "Stop faffing about and get to the point." 

 

He took the admonishment with a self-depreciative smile, even if he'd rather hurt Gavin in some fashion for his insolence. Instead, he fixed the sheepish grin in place. "I don't like how handsy you get with Geoff and the Lads. It makes me jealous. I've been trying to stop myself from feeling this way, I really have, but if anything, as time goes on, it's becoming a bigger problem for me - obviously so, since you've just started to pick up on it. And I know that both Geoff and Michael are happily married, and Ray doesn't swing that way, but I can't help it." He dropped his gaze, staring at his lap so that Gavin would miss the conniving gleam in his eyes. "See? I told you. Stupid and petty." 

 

A gentle hand settled on James' shoulder, making the older man sigh heavily. "Ryan," he said softly, "Why didn't you say something sooner? I would've stopped-" 

 

"That's why!" James cut him off, voice taking on a pleading tone that left a sour taste in his mouth. "Gavin, you shouldn't have to change just to make me feel more comfortable. That's  _exactly_  why I never brought it up." 

 

"Bit late now," Gavin retorted with a good-natured grin, but then his features settled into something more serious. "Ryan, if it's really been bothering you this much, I'm going to tone it down, and you can't stop me." 

 

Finally looking up at Gavin again, James forced a fond smile into his face. "You're absolutely incorrigible, you know that?" 

 

Gavin grinned and drew James into a hug, nestling his head into the crook of the older man's neck. "Yep," he replied happily, closing his eyes and nuzzling against James' body.   

 

James chuckled, the endearing smile on his face twisting into something more triumphant and sinister as he wrapped his arms possessively around the younger man.  

 

~* * *~

 

His eyeballs had fused to the insides of his eyelids. Ryan was certain of it.

 

At least, it pretty damn well felt like it. Every time he blinked, it was like dragging sandpaper over stone. The entire socket of each eye seemed to itch, and he was fairly sure that once he closed his eyelids to sleep that night, they would be so gummed up that come morning he wouldn't be able to open them back up again.

 

The good news was that he'd successfully slogged through the second half of the King's lab notes, and could finally make a start on his preparations for getting back home the next day - provided that he could unstick his eyelids when he woke up. The accomplishment stirred a kind of weary triumph in his bones, and the walk back to the royal chambers seemed shorter than usual. A small, glad smile even graced his lips as he heaved against the heavy door.

 

It dimmed quickly, however, as he entered the room. Gavin was seated neatly on the end of the King's bed, fully clothed this time but clearly still there for the same reason.

 

Ryan made an aggravated sound. The stress of having to constantly pretend that he was someone else was already taking its toll, and it was getting harder and harder to refuse Gavin. He steeled himself. "Gavin, I have told you many times now, I am currently too busy for-"

 

"No!" The younger man's voice was firmer than Ryan had ever heard it, even though he looked terrified by the fact that he'd just spoken out against the King. "You are not yourself, my King," Gavin continued more quietly, gulping and obviously struggling not to cry, fingers tightening around each other in his lap. It was a stark contrast to Ryan's Gavin, whom he'd never seen come close to shedding a tear. Ryan couldn't help feeling his heart swell. "You are right, of course; you have been busy, and so it is even more important that you relax after a long day of hard work. You will feel better after. Please, let me serve you."

 

It tore Ryan to pieces to see the younger man practically begging to do something that clearly frightened him. This Gavin needed to understand what actual intimacy was supposed to be like, because it seemed that the fact that Ryan wasn't demanding sex from him was so foreign a concept that it was seriously starting to affect the younger man's mental health.

 

Of course, the ridiculous hypothetical scenario questions that the Gavin of Ryan's reality came up with were so wide and varied that he and Ryan had actually talked about this sort of thing - if one of them had sex with an alternate-universe version of the other, was it actually cheating? Gavin had been of the opinion that it didn't count, because it was, technically, still the same person. Ryan had argued that personality made the person, so they'd be different people, and it would be cheating. Gavin had returned with a scenario where someone went through a life-changing experience, and their personality changed as a result. He'd asked if that meant they'd become a different person then. The entire conversation had derailed shortly after (and had arguably derailed much earlier than that point), as so often happened when Ryan indulged Gavin's hypotheticals. Knowing Gavin's position on the idea made him feel a little better, but he was still somewhat undecided on the matter.

 

Then he mentally chastised himself. The Gavin of this world was clearly distressed, and Ryan could easily fix it if he could just ignore his own hang-ups for long enough. And while he wasn't usually an advocate for using sex as a way to fix a problem, this was a situation where it was likely to be genuinely helpful. Ryan could deal with his own feelings later.

 

This wasn't about Ryan, it was about how fragile and broken this version of Gavin was, courtesy of King James. At any rate, it was actually physically painful to see any version of Gavin in such anguish.

 

 _Doesn't matter what reality I'm in, I'll always fall in love with Gavin_ , he mused, firmly making up his mind.

 

"You've swayed me," he said, forcing down guilt and apprehension as he crooked his finger at Gavin. The younger man swallowed and shuffled towards him, shuddering as Ryan's hands fell upon his shoulders. Ryan squeezed him comfortingly, bringing one hand up to cradle Gavin's chin and pulling him in for a gentle kiss.

 

Gavin was obviously surprised by the older man's tenderness, tensing slightly as if he sensed some sort of trick. When no abrupt mood change came, no sudden harsh biting teeth and harsher words as the King threw him roughly onto the bed, Gavin slowly began to relax, bracing his hands against Ryan's chest as he melted into the older man's arms. Ryan swiped his tongue along Gavin's bottom lip, seeking permission to deepen the kiss. Tentatively, Gavin gave it, gasping a little as Ryan's tongue moved against his own. But the kiss didn't become about dominance - the older man didn't make any attempts at claiming Gavin's mouth, as he was so used to.

 

The older man's hands were broad and warm on his hips, and Gavin's skin felt cold when they gradually crept up to undo the laces of his shirt. Ryan broke away from the kiss briefly to look at Gavin and make sure that he was alright with the pace being set, then pulled on the end of the lace. He parted the fabric, thumbs brushing over Gavin's nipples as his hands slid up Gavin's chest. Goosebumps prickled on Gavin's shoulders as Ryan gently pushed the shirt down the younger man's arms, fingertips tracing the curve and dip of his spine. Gavin shivered at the touch, but this time from pleasure rather than fear. Slowly breaking out of his meekness, Gavin dared to undo the buttons on Ryan's coat, hands slipping underneath the black material to tug at the older man's undershirt. His fingers skimmed hesitantly across Ryan's muscled abdomen, leaving ghostly trails of sensation on Ryan's skin.

 

Ryan slowly drew Gavin onto the bed, lying them both on their sides despite the slight awkwardness inherent to the position, because he knew that Gavin would likely spook if Ryan straddled him right off the bat. Instead, he continued the slow, sweet kiss, fingers trailing over the body next to him. His hands drifted lower and lower, eventually sliding over Gavin's cloth-covered ass and giving it a small squeeze. Gavin let out a whine at the action, but the sound was pleased, not afraid. Ryan slowly, gently rolled Gavin onto his back, searching the younger man's face for any sign of apprehension. But Gavin had seemed to accept that for whatever reason, the King was being kind to him for once, and although Gavin was a little nervous he was no longer frightened. Ryan closed the distance between their lips, propping himself up on his elbows as he eased his tongue into Gavin's mouth.

 

He was slow and deliberate in his movements, but Gavin's breath still hitched suddenly as Ryan rubbed their half-hard cocks together through their clothes. The younger man fisted his hands in the soft material of Ryan's shirt, and Ryan was quick to shrug the piece of clothing up over his head. With no small amount of shyness, and a flash of something akin to wonder, Gavin ran his hands down Ryan's sides, and over the older man's back, fingers curving around the defined lines of muscle. It was almost like he'd never touched the King's body like this before. Then, with a jolt, Ryan realised he actually hadn't. James had a tendency to just throw Gavin onto the bed and mark him up with bruises - and sometimes to bind the younger man, too, if the mood struck him - before holding Gavin down, chest against the mattress, and fucking him until he was done.

 

The thought left a bad taste in Ryan's mouth, so he leaned down to kiss Gavin once more, drowning it and replacing it with the sweetness of Gavin's tongue. He rocked his hips against the younger man's body, feeling the both of them hardening against each other. He indulged in the easy motion for a while, but the heavy fabric of his kilt was a little bit rough, and, with the increased sensitivity brought on by his arousal, was quickly making things uncomfortable.

 

Ryan sat on his haunches and discarded the kilt, glad to be rid of the slightly scratchy material. Apparently finding his own reserves of confidence, Gavin shimmied his way out of his pants, erection almost lying flush against his stomach. Ryan drank in the sight of the body, so similar to that of the Gavin in his own world.

 

He pushed down a twinge of guilt.

 

"I do not care what I have ever said about you," Ryan murmured, smoothing the pad of his thumb against Gavin's clean-shaven cheek. "You are beautiful."

 

An intense blush suffused Gavin's cheeks almost immediately, confused by and unused to flattery.

 

Ryan reached for the side table, grabbing the bottle of scented oil that James kept there. As he settled back on the bed, he caught a flicker of apprehension on Gavin's face, quickly hidden as the younger man rolled onto his stomach.

 

"No," Ryan said immediately, making Gavin flinch. Ryan cringed at the unintentionally evoked reaction, and continued in a softer tone, "I want you to lie on your back."

 

Bewildered, Gavin repositioned himself as requested. Ryan poured some of the oil out onto his fingers, warming it while he used his other hand to gently spread Gavin's legs. The younger man's breath caught as Ryan touched a finger to his puckered entrance, tracing slow circles around the rim. He waited for Gavin to calm a little before gradually easing in the tip of his forefinger.

 

Gavin had shared the King's bed for many years, and had long ago grown accustomed to what he needed to do when penetrated. He let his body relax, and even with how cautious Ryan was being with him, it wasn't long before the older man was three fingers in, knuckle-deep. Gavin was grinding down onto Ryan's fingers, letting out a little whimper every time the motion caused Ryan to brush against his prostate. It was clear that Gavin wanted more, and Ryan obliged, slicking himself up before sliding in as carefully as possible. Both of them moaned as he bottomed out, Gavin's legs hooking around Ryan's body as he arched away from the bed. The older man's hands found their way to Gavin's hips, drawing him more securely onto Ryan's lap. From there, Ryan leaned over him, pressing Gavin's knees close to his chest, but not enough to make it uncomfortable for the younger man. His thrusts were gentle, the rolling of his hips a smooth, continuous motion. Everything was slow, measured, sweet; their lips met again, hands exploring and softly touching.

 

In a way, it reminded Ryan of his first time with the Gavin of his reality, though with obvious marked differences.

 

Ryan was generally one to take his time, so they continued at this languid rhythm for a good half hour before he really started to feel the exhaustion of the day catching up with him. He took Gavin's cock in hand and picked up the pace little by little, his movements still tender even as they released almost simultaneously, Gavin spilling onto his own stomach. Ryan quickly grabbed Gavin's pants, which had been pushed to the other side of the bed, to mop up the mess, tossing the soiled garment to the side.

 

He was about to slide under the covers and surrender to his body's need for sleep, when Gavin's whispered words froze him in his tracks.

 

"You are not King James."

 


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the next chapter, lovelies! Enjoy!
> 
> Content warning for brief homophobic language.

_He was about to slide under the covers and surrender to his body's need for sleep, when Gavin's whispered words froze him in his tracks._

 

_"You are not King James."_

 

~* * *~

 

Ryan's heart skipped a beat. He'd known that Gavin was likely to realise that there was no way that the King would treat him so gently, but he didn't think the younger man would come to his conclusions so soon, or state them so abruptly.

 

"Pardon?" Ryan managed a tone of voice that didn't sound like he was being strangled.

 

Gavin turned his head to stare at Ryan. "You cannot be him. You cared about how I was feeling throughout all of that," he murmured. "You did not do anything until you were sure I was comfortable with it. King James does not care about how I feel. You are not King James." Gavin's brow furrowed. "But you look exactly like him, to every single detail. How did you do that?"

 

Ryan blinked and swallowed. "You know of the King's experiments and theories involving alternate realities?" Gavin gave him a minute nod, and Ryan swallowed again. "He was right. Different universes exist, and it's possible for someone to travel between them. The only problem is that to get into another world, you have to leave your body behind, and let your consciousness take over the body of your alternate self. Then your alternate self's consciousness is forced out of their body and into yours."

 

The younger man's eyes widened in awe. "He finally did it?"

 

"Yes. I'm... I'm not from anywhere in this reality," Ryan replied, for some reason a little troubled that Gavin had so easily accepted the explanation. "...That doesn't seem at all strange to you?"

 

Gavin looked confused. "Why should it? He said such worlds existed, and that it should be possible to travel to them. He is the King, of course he was right."

 

"He's a monarch, not a freaking god!" Ryan exclaimed, sitting up and staring at Gavin.

 

"He is the closest thing to a god that walks among mortal men." Gavin shrugged, as if it was something completely normal to say.

 

"What kind of gods do you have, that you think it's okay for him to treat you the way he does?" Ryan asked after a few moments of troubled silence, tracing soft fingers around the starting-to-fade bruises on Gavin's neck.

 

"The gods deliver us good and bad in equal measure," Gavin replied, not meeting Ryan's eyes. "I serve my King, and in turn I want for nothing. I eat at the King's table, because it amuses him to have me there; I dine better than near anyone in the kingdom, bar the King himself. When I am not actively pleasing the King, I can go almost anywhere in the castle or the surrounds that takes my fancy. I have chambers more lavish than I would have ever dared ask for before coming here."

 

The brief mention of having a life before the castle sparked another memory flash in Ryan's brain.

 

He remembered that Gavin's parents were from a family of less-than-prosperous nobles. Gavin's father's estate was pitifully tiny, although it was quite close to the castle itself. Their only real chance at increasing their status had been for Gavin to rise to prominence among the knights, once he joined the ranks of men serving the King.  His parents had been delighted when, at age seven, he was made page to Captain Burns of the Royal Guard. The Captain was an old friend of the family, and had long held a fondness for the boy.

 

Gavin loved his parents dearly, and he had thrown himself into his sword training as well as his other lessons in order to please them, even though he was clumsy with the first and bored to tears by the second.

 

What he lacked in natural aptitude with the sword he made up for with agility and sheer tenacity. With grim determination, he trained for hours on end, every day, and was always more than a little disappointed by the fact that it seemed impossible for him to put on what he deemed to be an adequate amount of muscle mass. Captain Burns had laughed and slapped him on the back, telling him it was actually a good thing - with his slender physique, he could move more quickly, and presented a smaller target to his enemies. "Remember," he had told the boy, then thirteen years of age, "It does not matter how big a sword a man has, or how strong he is, if you are swift enough and skilled enough, you will beat him every time. And I believe you are well on your way to being capable of that."

 

Gavin had all but glowed at the words. That training session was also the first time he'd actually met James, who had come to the training yard on a whim. The older man was still a Prince at the time, and none knew how tyrannical he would become after his father, the King, died. Gavin hadn't known that he should have been terrified. Instead, when James praised the Captain on his progress with Gavin, and then addressed Gavin directly, telling the teenager that he looked forward to the day that Gavin was under royal employ, Gavin had almost passed out with giddy joy. He absorbed himself in his training even more, letting it consume him, set on becoming the best swordsman in the kingdom and serving the King to his last breath.

 

How proud Gavin's parents had been when on his fourteenth birthday, it was announced that Gavin would become squire to Prince James. How proud they were to see him standing by the Prince's side every time that they were able to visit the main keep.

 

How horrified and humiliated they were when the day Gavin came of age, rather than having the squire dubbed as a knight, Ryan had taken the young man to bed. He hadn't been allowed to see them since.

 

Naturally, as soon as this happened, all of Gavin's training came to a halt. He hadn't held a sword in near a decade; his talent, so hard-won, had become rusty and dull. His lean muscle had wasted away from underuse, leaving him still slender but next to useless in a fight.

 

"He was not always the way he is now," Gavin murmured, snapping Ryan out of it.

 

"…I know. When I came here, into this body, I had a whole lot of… memories, I guess, of James' life flash through my head. Whenever I concentrate on something or someone, I remember things from his experiences with it or them," the older man explained. "It's definitely disorientating, but I think I'm starting to get used to it." He left out that this fact quite frankly terrified him - he felt like he was becoming desensitised to James' tendencies towards anger and cruelty. He lived in fear of the possibility that he might begin to exhibit some of those traits himself, just by virtue of having to play pretend at them whenever he interacted with almost anyone in the castle.

 

Gavin looked away. "Then you will know that while I was still undergoing my training, I was, in fact, ecstatic when he noticed me. He was a different man then, before his father, the old King, passed away. He cared about those other than himself; he was kind and compassionate and friendly." He looked at Ryan sidelong. "He was like you."

 

Ryan felt his heart clench. "Gavin-"

 

"He changed when the old King died. He was midway through his twenties when it happened, and it broke him. After that, he… he stopped believing that the Gods cared about people… or that they even existed." The words came uncomfortably, Gavin obviously a stout believer himself. "Without concern for punishment in the afterlife, he began to do as he pleased. I was one of his first 'decisions'." Gavin swallowed, his eyes gaining a faraway quality. "I believe there was a time where I may have loved him," he said softly. "I do not remember if I truly did, or whether I simply told myself I must have, at some point, in order to justify what was happening. I think I may have even lain with him willingly, had he asked rather than forcing me." He took a shuddering breath. "What I am trying to impress upon you, is that I hold no love for him now. I will not tell anyone that you are not him." He offered Ryan a self-depreciating smile. "Besides, I do not know of anyone in this castle who would believe me if I did." He shifted, making as if to stand. "But I have kept you from rest for too long. I will retire to my own chambers now."

 

"Wait!" Ryan reached towards him quickly, shrinking back as Gavin flinched at the unexpected motion. "I mean… please. Stay here for the night. I'd appreciate the company, plus I'm used to not sleeping alone."

 

The younger man gave him an unreadable look. "You shared a bed with the Gavin of your world?" he guessed.

 

"Yes," was all Ryan replied with. He was unwilling to say more on the matter, because knowing that Ryan and Ryan's version of Gavin were in a happy, stable relationship would likely make the younger man upset, and leave him pining for a reality that could never exist.

 

A yawn suddenly cracked Ryan's jaw. He'd managed to stave off his desire for sleep for a while, but Gavin mentioning his need for rest brought the full force of his exhaustion down upon him. His eyes barely stayed open long enough to see Gavin hesitate briefly before nodding and slipping under the covers next to Ryan, curling his body against the older man's. Ryan had just enough energy left to drape an arm protectively around Gavin's midsection, tucking their bodies snugly together, before they both drifted off to sleep.

 

~* * *~

 

"C'mon, Ryan!" Gavin whined, dragging on the older man's arm. "You never go out with us! Don't be so boring."

 

James looked down at the Brit hanging off him, unamused. "You only want me to go because you need a designated driver."

 

"Well, it's your fault for not ever wanting to get bevved up." He wrapped his arms around James' stomach, resting his chin on the older man's shoulder. "I won't have any fun if you're not there, Ryan," he pouted.

 

"Good," James muttered.

 

"Please?" Gavin continued to urge. "I hate the idea of you sitting around by yourself while I'm out with the others."

 

It was becoming increasingly clear that pleading wasn't going to work, so Gavin switched tactics, trailing his fingers down James' bicep.

 

"I could just _make_ you want to come," he purred, grinning at the unintended double entendre.

 

"Mm," James grunted. "I could just offer the same to you for neither of us going."

 

Gavin straightened slightly. "Hey, that's not fair!"

 

"You're just saying that because you know I can hold off sex for way longer than you can." James turned, smirking down at the younger man. "I bet I'd be able to make it so that you wouldn't last two days," he murmured, smile growing wider at the way Gavin's pupils expanded slightly with the beginnings of lust. James reached around and grabbed Gavin's ass, pulling the younger man against him in the same motion. "I bet I could have you _begging_ for it," he whispered, lips barely an inch from Gavin's before he pulled away, leaving a very flustered Gavin standing on suddenly weak legs.

 

James sighed theatrically. "I guess I could go out just this once." He grinned again, eyebrow quirked and eyelids hooded. "You'll owe me for it, though."

 

Gavin's face brightened. "Really? Thanks, Ryan! I know it'll be a little boring for you, not drinking and all, but it really would make me feel better." He hugged the older man with a smile. "I promise I won't bev too much, and I'll make it up to later."

 

"I bet you will."

 

~* * *~

 

The others were excited to see that James was joining them at the bar, Geoff jokingly offering to buy him all the diet Coke he wanted just for showing up for once. James declined, largely because unlike Ryan, the sweet beverage disgusted him. In fact, so did many of the artificially flavoured and sugar-laden consumables in this reality. Luckily, the body he was inhabiting was, of course, used to these foods, so it was more of a shock to James' palate than anything else. Still, he tried to avoid processed foods entirely, if he could get away with it.

 

Gavin promptly proceeded to get himself into the area of firmly tipsy, but, true to his word, stopped himself short of getting properly drunk. It was still enough alcohol to have him laughing at every little thing, and to not seem to be able to help himself from draping his arms around James and leaving them there, unless he was reaching for another drink to keep him buzzed.

 

James had underestimated how much the drunken conversation of the others would bother him. It wasn't as bad when they were at work, because he could divert at least part of his attention to the video games that he still found so fascinating. But here, there were no distractions. All James could do was sling his arm around Gavin's waist, plaster a smile on his face, laugh at the right times or chime in with some witty dialogue.

 

The only solace he had was to imagine the violent demise of every single person in the room. It helped considerably, but the pitifully mundane conversation about their families and lives and friends continued to grate against James' ears, making him grit his teeth behind a grin that was feeling faker by the minute.

 

He was almost grateful when they were interrupted by one of the bar's other patrons.

 

"Fuckin' faggots," a voice slurred behind them.

 

Gavin stiffened, whereas James' eyes turned murderous. Slowly, he turned towards the sallow-skinned man that had just insulted them.

 

"I beg your pardon?" he asked evenly, the other man too drunk to pick up on the undertone of danger in James' words.

 

Instead, the man squinted at him, a scowl on his face as he swayed unsteadily. "You 'eard me. You've got your little boy whore hanging off you like that, 's fuckin' disgusting. No one wants to see that shit."

 

Geoff and Michael were off their barstools in an instant, but James was quicker. He slammed an uppercut into the underside of the man's chin, almost lifting the drunkard off his feet. The man's jaw went slack and he tottered precariously. It was almost laughable how easy it was for James to pivot the man around until they were chest-to-back. From there, a small shove and James scything the man's legs out from under him sent the drunk man to the floor. Almost immediately, James was on him again, dragging an arm that with thick more from fat than muscle behind the man's back. The man whimpered in pain, trying to squirm his way free, but James' grip was firm.

 

"I believe you owe me an apology," he growled.

 

"Ow, you're hurtin' me!" the man whined. James only twisted his arm harder.

 

"And I can _easily_  hurt you a lot more. Now, _apologise_."

 

"Fuckin'- alright, alright, I'm sorry, I'm sorry! Lemme go!"

 

James jerked on his arm. "Now apologise to Gavin."

 

The man looked confused and terrified. "Who's-"

 

"Who do you think it is, idiot!" James snarled. "Of the two people you just insulted, the one currently not pinning you to the fucking floor!"

 

With another whimper, the man strained to get Gavin in his sights. "'M sorry, alright? Please, make him let me go!"

 

"There, not so difficult to be a civil human being, is it?" James got up, glaring contemptuously as the man scrambled to his feet. "Next time, show some goddamn respect."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The cut-off is a bit awkward, sorry.
> 
> Up next:
> 
> Ryan and Gavin morning cuteness/angst (because things can never just be happy, even for a second)
> 
> The rest of the Achievement Hunters (sans Ray) at the bar are, rather predictably, shocked by James' apparent ninja skills.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warning for a brief sexual instance right at the beginning, and a less brief bit of rough sex at the end.

For the second time since switching realities, Ryan woke to Gavin's hot mouth wrapped around his cock.

 

He let out a sigh that ended in a groan. "Gavin," he said, gently pulling away, "You shouldn't feel obligated to do this. I'm not him, I promise I won't get mad."

 

Gavin gazed up at Ryan through his lashes. "But I want to."

 

A drawn-out breath of air rushed past Ryan's lips. "No, you don't," he replied eventually. "You just think you do. The King hasn't shown you affection in years - I know, I can see all of his memories. You've been starved of compassion, and along I come… I thought I'd make things better for you by showing you what it's supposed to feel like, but now I think I was just being selfish. I mean, in the short term, this could be good for you, but long-term… you'd probably just be worse off once I leave. I'm so sorry."

 

The younger man looked alarmed. "Leave? Why are you leaving?"

 

Ryan gave him a confused look. "Because I have to get back to my own world. I miss my family, I miss my friends." _I miss my Gavin_ , he almost added, but realised _this_ Gavin likely wouldn't take that too well. "But more than that, in all likelihood, King James is using my body right now. I have to stop him from hurting them."

 

"You have to send him back here," Gavin added quietly, sitting up and looking to the side.

 

Sorrow gripped him. "I don't want to. If I knew how to just banish him from existence somehow, I'd do it in a heartbeat… even if it meant I couldn't go home, I'd do it. I'd miss everyone from my world, a lot, but I know they'd move on without me after a while. I'd rule this kingdom like a King's supposed to, with compassion and justice, if it meant he couldn't hurt anyone anymore."

 

Tears brimmed in Gavin's eyes. "Do not torment me with things I can never have," he whispered.

 

"I'm sorry," Ryan replied, even though he knew the words were grossly inadequate. He drew the younger man into his arms, running fingers through his unruly brown locks, and Gavin clung to him, burrowing his head against Ryan's chest.

 

"You may not wish to say it," Gavin muttered, "but I am aware that you must still be worried that I will tell someone, or that I will try to prevent you from leaving."

 

Ryan bit his lip, saying nothing as his hand stilled in Gavin's hair. The first one didn't concern him; as Gavin had pointed out the previous day, there were few in the castle that would listen to anything Gavin had to say, and even then it was his word against the King's. What was more, Ryan was almost certain that everyone in the castle thought that existence of alternate universes was ludicrous and impossible. They would throw out Gavin's story as insanity.

 

The second, however - and he hated himself for thinking it - was a legitimate fear. Ryan couldn't imagine that Gavin would possibly want James back, and he would definitely understand if the younger man took measures to prevent it from happening.

 

"I will not do either, I promise you," Gavin said thickly. "It would make you hate me… I do not want you to become like him."

 

"I would never treat you the way he does," Ryan replied firmly, squeezing him reassuringly. But Gavin pulled away, not meeting Ryan's eyes.

 

"When I first met him, I never thought he would treat me the way he has. I have already lived through one good man becoming a monster. I refuse to do so again." He turned to face Ryan again, eyes filled with anguish. "I will not betray you."

 

Ryan felt a tear slide down his cheek, and he drew Gavin into another, tighter, hug. "Thank you. I'm so sorry I have to leave you behind. I wish I could take you with me, even though it would definitely cause a few problems, but… the only way to do that is to send the Gavin from my world here, and I could never do that." He sighed. "I'm so sorry."

 

"There is nothing else for you to do," Gavin mumbled against Ryan's skin, tears that went unmentioned by both of them dripping onto Ryan's chest. "That is a part of living; not everyone reaches a happy end."

 

Ryan sighed sadly, holding the younger man close. Neither of them spoke for several moments.

 

"When…" Gavin's voice cracked slightly and he stared off to the side, a faint blush tinting his cheeks. "When you laid with me last night… I did not know it could feel that way."

 

"There's a difference between having sex with someone and making love to them," Ryan murmured, stroking Gavin's hair again.

 

"I… I have only ever lain with the King, I did not realise it could be so different." His eyes met Ryan's. "It was the most wonderful thing I have ever had the pleasure of experiencing."

 

Ryan smiled even though his eyes misted slightly, the look on the younger man's face reminding him so forcibly of the Gavin of Ryan's reality that it was actually physically painful. "You sure know what to say to flatter a man," he said with a watery laugh. Then he sighed again, wishing he could stay and comfort Gavin a little longer, but he needed to get back to work.

 

"I have to go to the laboratory," Ryan told him gently, hating the way Gavin sagged at the words.

 

"I… of course. I will not keep you." Gavin pulled away from him, leaving a cold patch on both their bodies where moments ago they'd been pressed against one another. Ryan tried to say something, anything, but there were no words that wouldn't sound hollow, so he got up and dressed in silence. Gavin remained seated on the bed, still naked from the night before, and he seemed so small and vulnerable that Ryan could hardly bear to look in his direction for more than a second.

 

"I'll see you tonight," Ryan promised softly, then headed for the door with a single, anguished backwards glance before slipping through and making his way down to the confines of the lab.

 

~* * *~

 

James made sure the drunkard had slunk off, then turned around to find the others gawping at him. He offered them a small smile, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. "So, I uh…" he trailed off uncertainly.

 

"Dude. What the fuck? How long have you been able to do that?" Michael's eyes were wide as saucers.

 

"I was really into boxing when I was younger," James explained, making things up on the fly. "I don't do it so much these days, but I do get back in the ring every now and again, just to keep the skill up. Never know when it'll come in handy."

 

Jack let out a puff of laughter. "No kidding."

 

"It's not that big a deal," James said self-depreciatingly, getting back onto his barstool with Gavin tucked under his arm.

 

"Are you kidding?" Geoff grinned, slapping him on the back. "That was fucking awesome - you handed that guy's ass to him!"

 

James shrugged affably. "Well, I couldn't just sit there and let him insult Gavin. That's my job."

 

Gavin smiled dopily, planting a kiss on James' cheek. "My hero."

 

The older man raised an eyebrow. "Oh, am I now? Do I get a reward for gallantly coming to your rescue, then?"

 

With his eyelids hooded and a purr in his voice, Gavin trailed a finger down James' chest and replied, "I'm sure I can think of something."

 

"Hey." Geoff snapped his fingers at them. "No being gross in public."

 

Smirking, James pulled Gavin onto his lap, kissing at the Brit's neck. Gavin squeaked at the sudden action, and the rest of the table groaned.

 

"Goddammit, you're worse than Michael and Lindsay."

 

"Shut up Jack. But yeah, you're way worse than me."

 

"I will fire both of you, I swear to god."

 

~* * *~

 

As designated driver, James drove the others to their respective houses (still a little more slowly and stiffly than Ryan would have done, but the others were all rather drunk so it wasn't like they really noticed). Once that was done, he and Gavin had returned to their own home, and the front door hadn't even closed before Gavin was plastering himself against James' body, kissing fervently at the older man's neck.

 

James chuckled, hands circling securely around Gavin's waist. Not that the Brit had any intentions of going anywhere. "I'm getting my reward now, am I?"

 

"I'm not going to wait after that." Gavin's voice was low and rough, alcohol-tinged breath washing hotly over James' skin as he tore at the clothing covering their upper bodies, grinding against the older man all the while. James had to admire his ability to multitask even when a little drunk. "I love it when you show off how strong you are," he hissed into James' ear, their bare torsos flush against one another. "It turns me on, Ryan."

 

The older man's grin turned devilish. This was even better than what he'd hoped for. "Oh, you like it when you see how strong I am, hm?" He flipped them around easily so that Gavin was the one pressed against the wall, James' thigh pushing insistently between the younger man's legs. "You like to be reminded how much stronger I am than you, is that it?" His voice was a growl, beating Gavin's for depth, and the Brit shuddered just at the sound, rocking his hips against James as he moaned and nodded. James dipped his head to suck marks onto the junction of Gavin's neck, and another grin worked its way across his face when Gavin didn't complain as the stinging kisses travelled higher, the hickeys that sprang up in the wake of James' mouth leaving bruises that they both knew would be near impossible to hide the next day. Gavin just moaned, tilting his head to the side to expose more skin to the older man, hands grabbing at James' back.

 

"Want to show the world you belong to me, do you?" James murmured wickedly, adding another love bite just below the hinge of Gavin's jaw.

 

"Oh, god yes," Gavin replied with a slight whine, bucking against James' leg like a horny teenager. James suddenly flipped Gavin again, using his body to force the younger man against the wall, his own hard-on pressing insistently against Gavin's ass through the denim separating them.

 

"I could take you right here," James purred, smirking at the shiver that ran through Gavin's body. "I could just fuck you so hard that you'd feel it for days." Gavin moaned weakly, fingers scrabbling at the wall. "Or would you still prefer the bed? Where I can hold you down and fuck you until you scream my name?"

 

"Ryan, _please_ ," Gavin rasped, desperately trying to find the room to move and gain some sorely needed friction.

 

James grinned. "Bedroom it is." Spinning Gavin around to face him once more, James hoisted Gavin off the ground, the Brit's legs dangling either side of his waist as the younger man clung to him, feet locking together behind James' back. Gavin gasped and panted as James continued to assault his neck, then dropped him on the bed once they reached their room. They quickly shed the rest of their clothing, and James gave Gavin the bare minimum amount of prep before pressing into him, one firm hand between Gavin's shoulder blades keeping the Brit flush against the mattress as he groaned and writhed beneath James. Gavin kept up a steady stream of pleased sounds and James pounded into him all the harder, making good on his promise to ensure that Gavin would be feeling it for days. A savage grin lit his features at the way Gavin submitted to him completely, made even sweeter by the knowledge that when Ryan returned, there was no way that soft-hearted weakling would be able to bring himself to replicate this sort of sexual act, no matter how much Gavin professed his desire for it - that once James was gone, it would be something that Gavin would always secretly yearn for and miss.

 


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things pick up a little in this one. Enjoy.
> 
> Also, quick note: I'm going to be very busy in the coming week, so don't expect any fic stuff from me until next Friday at the absolute earliest.
> 
> Content warnings for blood and bit of self-mutilation.

Ryan had quickly come to loathe being in James' lab. He'd ordered some servants to remove the mutilated corpses strung up on the wall, so at least he didn't have to deal with that sight any more, but he still had to spend the majority of his day cooped up in the same room, and he was worried that it was starting to take its toll on him. Still, he appreciated the fact that since he'd finally finished transcribing all of James' lab notes, he could work on preparing the concoction that would get him home at the lab benches, meaning he didn't have to sit in the same chair for hours on end, and could instead stand when he wanted to. But even this was tempered by the concerning amount of noxious gases that would form whenever he added certain ingredients, leaving him coughing and eyes streaming as he ran to the window to get some fresh air. Ryan couldn't really see how the potion he was making was supposed to get him home, as his reactions to it in the early stages of production were all indicating that he'd just end up poisoning himself.

 

Then there was the issue of Gavin.

 

He knew there was no perfect solution to be had - no matter what he did, King James would be around in one reality or the other to make the lives of everyone around him a misery. And, if Ryan wanted to keep his friends safe, or even to ever see them again, he had no choice to send the monarch back to his native reality. The fact that this would leave this reality's version of Gavin at the mercy of the Mad King once more left Ryan with a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach, even though he knew there was nothing he could do about it. For the briefest of moments, he’d entertained the idea that if he died, James would too, but there was no way of telling if their realities were actually linked like that. Regardless, he baulked at the idea of orchestrating his own death. Ryan wanted to live. He wanted to be able to fix whatever damage James had caused, even when the cynical part of his mind pointed out that this might not be entirely possible, and that there might not even be anything let to fix by the time James was through. He fastidiously pushed away these thoughts, not knowing what he'd do if he let himself dwell on them.

 

The confusion of what was the right thing to do - if there even _was_ a right thing to do - left Ryan hollow and tired, and the amount of progress he ended up making didn't feel nearly as satisfying as it should have.

 

Things would have been much simpler if he hadn't fallen for the alternate version of Gavin.

 

As it was, at the end of the day he trudged back to the royal chambers, dragging his feet, his heart heavy with conflicting emotions and desires. Ryan sighed, resting his forehead briefly against the thick oak door before opening it, shoulders squared. Gavin was waiting for him inside, like Ryan knew he would be.

 

The younger man smiled, even though he still looked just the slightest bit sad. "I trust you have had a busy day, would you like for me to massage you, my…" he trailed off suddenly and uncertainly. He'd obviously been about to call Ryan his King out of habit, but had no idea how to actually address the older man, now that he knew Ryan wasn't actually the King Gavin knew.

 

"You can call me Ryan," he supplied, watching as the younger man mulled the name over in his head, nodding his approval.

 

" _Ryan_ ," Gavin stressed, tongue wrapping tenderly around the two syllables, stepping closer and sliding his hands up over the older man's shoulders. He looked up at Ryan through his lashes. "Would you like a massage?"

 

Ryan slowly placed his hands over Gavin's, drawing them down so that their fingers were clasped between them. "Not right now. With my work in the lab today… there's something I have to tell you."

 

"Oh? Has something gone amiss?" There was the faintest, briefest glimmer of hope in Gavin's eyes, rapidly followed by more guilt than Ryan had ever seen a person display in his life. If ever Ryan needed confirmation that Gavin wouldn't try to stop him from returning to his own reality, that would have been it. If Gavin had felt that bad about feeling hope at the prospect of Ryan's crossing over being delayed, then there was next to no chance of Gavin sabotaging his work.

 

With another sigh, Ryan continued. "…No, it's not that. It's the opposite, really. I'll have everything ready for the crossing by the end of tomorrow. From there, it'll only take a few days before I cross over."

 

Gavin's grip on Ryan's hands loosened as the younger man stepped back. "I… I did not realise you would work so quickly," he whispered, looking pleadingly up at Ryan. "I do not want you to go so soon."

 

For a fleeting moment, Ryan once again considered actually staying.

 

He could do so much good here - not just for Gavin, but for the entire kingdom. He could find a way to make the people believe that he wanted to become a kind and just ruler. He could better the lives of everyone living in the kingdom, and make it so that they didn't have to mete out their days under an oppressive cloud of constant terror.

 

This reality could become a happy place.

 

But he couldn't deal with never seen _his_ Gavin again. He couldn't deal with the knowledge that he'd left the man he loved, as well as all his friends, at the mercy of a madman.

 

He couldn't deal with the fact that whatever James did, they would all think it was Ryan.

 

Call him selfish for choosing the welfare of his friends over an entire kingdom of people, but he just couldn't do it.

 

Ryan sighed sadly. "I know you don't. I'm sorry." With tender movements, Ryan tucked a stray lock of the younger man's hair behind his ear. "But I have to. I can't just leave _him_ in my world. You understand, don't you? The people I care about are in danger from him."

 

Gavin's eyes slid away from his, brimming with tears. "I am the one who is sorry. I should not be asking you to stay when you have so much waiting for you." He paused, sniffling. "You love him, do you not?" he asked quietly. "The Gavin of your world."

 

"Very much so," Ryan replied after a pause. "I hope I'll get the chance to tell him that again... and that he'll believe me."

 

"He will believe you," Gavin assured him softly. "If I can suffer under the Mad King for near a decade and still believe that you care for me, then he will believe that you love him."

 

"But I can't tell him what happened. He'll think I'm crazy. Hell, sometimes _I_ think I'm crazy, that none of this is actually happening. How am I supposed to convince him if I can't tell him the truth?"

 

"He will know that whatever has happened, or will happen, was not your fault. He loves you. He will understand."

 

"You're right," Ryan murmured, gently drawing Gavin into a hug, arms going around the younger man and hanging on for dear life. "I'll explain things the best I can. It'll work." His eyes squeezed shut, the embrace tightening. "It has to."

 

~* * *~

 

The next day was rather average weather-wise, the sun a milky presence in a mostly cloudy sky. By mid-afternoon, Ryan had finished the concoction that would get him home.

 

Ryan thought that the weather was being altogether underwhelming for how momentous an occasion it was.

 

He gazed at the small vial of liquid that was the culmination of his work for the past four days. The end product had been smaller in volume than he'd been expecting - the vial it was contained in had a total capacity of about half a cup, and the potion took up maybe half that. He shook it slightly, shuddering a little at how the viscous fluid sloshed sluggishly from side to side. It looked entirely unappealing, but Ryan steeled himself, knowing he'd have to drink it if he wanted to go home.

 

Cold and heavy, fear settled low in his stomach as he realised that if he messed up now, that was it - everyone he loved would be forever at the mercy of a bloodthirsty psychopath, and he himself would either be stuck in this reality or another that was not his own. Or, even worse, he could end up lost between realities, his consciousness drifting through a null space for the rest of eternity.

 

He took a few deep, yet still shaky, breaths, then downed the concoction in one go.

 

The taste made him gag. He hunched over, hands on his knees, and he forced himself not to throw up. Sweat pricked on his brow as he waited to see if he'd made a mistake somewhere along the line, to see if he'd just accidentally poisoned himself. If any second, he'd fall to the ground, writhing in agony as his body slowly shut down, his last desperate hope that if he died, there was at least the possibility that James would too.

 

A relieved sob fell from his lips as he felt a gentle pulling sensation deep in his gut. So, he'd gotten that part right, at least.

 

Now all he had to do was wait a few days and see whether or not the potion would take him to the right reality.

 

~* * *~

 

James cursed as he felt the sudden tugging start up in his abdomen. He hadn't expected Ryan to be able to work that quickly. It threw something of a wrench into his plans, but James was nothing if not adaptable.

 

He spent that afternoon and the weekend doing research on the development of weaponry through the ages. Ryan would often spontaneously want to learn about one obscure thing or another, so Gavin didn't bat an eyelid at this behaviour. James greedily drank in information about cannons and guns and controlled explosives, barely able to conceal the pure, savage pleasure that filled him at the thought of how many years ahead of the curve he would be once he returned home. How much of the tedious trial and error and innovation he'd be able to skip over, simply copying the plans from memory to give to his craftsmen to mass reproduce an unmatchable set of weaponry for his knights and soldiers.

 

By the time Sunday evening rolled around, James had memorised to his satisfaction the concepts and designs that would allow him to expand his kingdom into an empire.

 

With that task completed, he moved on to the other part of his plan, one which he had only decided on once he realised how disgustingly weak the alternate version of himself had turned out to be.

 

James kept his eyes trained on the bathroom mirror, stripped to nakedness and the door locked behind him. He ran one hand over his stomach, once again displeased at the softness of the body he was forced to possess in this reality.

 

In the other, he held a small, sharp kitchen knife.

 

He pressed the tip of the blade just above his right hipbone, grimacing slightly as it broke through the skin. But he was no stranger to pain, either inflicting it or receiving it - although this would be the first time he'd done both by himself. He kept his hand steady and slow, carving into the flesh of Ryan's body with painstaking care. Blood trickled from each cut, obscuring the neat lettering. The blade sank in just deep enough on each stroke that the wounds would leave a permanent scar once they healed, a permanent reminder of the fact that the King was very much capable - and willing - to risk crossing back into this reality after returning to his own, with the sole purpose of tearing Ryan's life to shreds again.

 

Simply because he could.

 

James grinned at the mirror. "Don't you ever forget this, Ryan," he mocked, tapping a finger next to the words, almost illegible under the smeared blood.

 

Humming contently to himself, James turned on the shower and stepped in, the water spiralling into the drain almost immediately turning red.

 

Soap and shampoo strung at the cuts as he cleaned the rest of his body, still humming and smiling. He found himself glad that he'd managed to find some dark red towels to use to dry himself off with, making things easier for him in the long run as it was less likely that Gavin would notice any stains that might be left behind after washing.

 

He stepped out of the shower once he was done, blood welling up almost immediately.

 

After waiting a few minutes to give the blood oozing out of his cuts the chance to coagulate, James wiped away what blood he could without cracking the cuts open again. He grabbed a few sterile pads and a bandage from the first aid kit from under the sink, and wrapped his injury up, hiding it under drawstring sweatpants and a long t-shirt, then dumped his dirty clothes and the soiled towel in the small hamper they kept in the bathroom, to be taken to the laundry the next day. Satisfied that everything was adequately covered up, he headed back into the master bedroom, faking a large yawn and immediately slipping under the covers.

 

"'Night, Gav," he murmured, eyes sliding shut.

 

Gavin nestled against his side, and James secured an arm around the younger man's waist. He was confident that the thickness of the clothing separating them would be sufficient to stop Gavin from noticing the bandage around his hips, so long as their bodies didn't shift against each other too much. And, considering how tired the Brit looked, James very much doubted there would be an issue at all.

 

"Sleep tight, Rye-Bread," Gavin yawned in response, falling asleep almost instantly.

 

James smiled wide against Gavin's hair with the knowledge of how utterly he would destroy the younger man the next day.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wondering what little message James left for Ryan? Don't worry, you'll find out… just not this chapter. :P
> 
> (Spoiler: he's just written the word 'dicks' over and over again)
> 
> For real, though, it shouldn't be too difficult to figure out the general gist of what he's written. But it's the exact wording that you won't know until later.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for the delay on this chapter, I struggled a little with the beginning of it, but I figured it out after a fashion. I've had the end of this chapter - basically the whole James portion - written for quite a while. Actually, it was among the first things I wrote for this fic, and I'm super excited to see how it goes over with you guys.
> 
> For this one, I've made a slight change to the actual AH office layout - mostly that the Thugs still have a window into the AH office, but it's not door anymore; essentially, there's only one door into the AH office. I didn't even realise that the window/door was a thing until after I'd already written the scene where it would be important, and I didn't want to have to rework the whole scene, so I hope you can bear with me on this count.
> 
> On an absolutely unrelated note, I definitely have the feeling that I'll be getting some very angry comments at the end of this chapter. I think this one, especially, it's important for me to give you guys the content warnings. This time around, there's a rather lengthy bit of physical violence and verbal abuse - perpetrated by James, of course - so please steer clear if that sort of thing would legitimately upset you.
> 
>  
> 
> Also, this actually happened last chapter, but this is now officially my longest RTAH fanfic! Yay!

Ryan almost couldn't bear the look of sadness on Gavin's face when, early the next morning, he told him that he'd taken the potion - and that if Ryan's experience with trans-dimensional travel was standard, he'd be gone in a few days, leaving Gavin behind to a life governed by the Mad King. The younger man did his best to hide his true emotions, fixing a smile on his face despite the watery shine in his eyes. Ryan held him close, cradling the slim body against him. "You don't have to pretend to be happy for me," he whispered softly, mindlessly stroking Gavin's hair. "I know this has to be hard for you, and I hate that I have to do this to you. You're braver than I am - if I were you, I'd be begging me to stay." He tightened his hold around the younger man, drawing in a shuddering breath. "You are _so strong_ and you don't even realise it."

 

Gavin let out a small, bitter laugh. "I am not strong, Ryan. Even when I held a sword, I was weak. I could not stand in the face of strength. My fighting style was centred entirely on running away."

 

Pulling back slightly, Ryan locked eyes with the younger man. "Physical strength is only one kind of strength," he replied firmly, smoothing the pad of his thumb over Gavin's cheek. The younger man leaned into the touch. "That you've spent ten years being… _subjugated_ by a madman, and that you haven't just become a husk of a human being, makes you the strongest person I've ever met. Hell, I know I wouldn't have lasted nearly as long as you have. You _are_ strong, Gavin. Never let yourself be convinced otherwise."

 

Gavin gazed up at him, tears clinging wetly to his lashes, and pressed their lips together, sweet and yearning and the slightest bit desperate. "Thank you. I know not what I have done to deserve your kindness, but I will treasure every memory I have of you when you are gone."

 

"I will never forget you, Gavin," Ryan promised, tipping the younger man's chin up and kissing him lingeringly, their faces inches from each other when they broke apart. "What I wouldn't give…" he trailed off, suddenly guilty. They both knew exactly what he wasn't willing to give up in exchange for Gavin's happiness.

 

Gavin placed a hand against the older man's chest. "I understand, Ryan, truly I do. I would not want you to stay knowing that you so desperately wish to be back in your home."

 

He sighed heavily and was about to reply when there was a hesitant series of knocks on the door. "Stay," he told Gavin, then slid out from under the covers, fetching his kilt from where he'd cast it the night before and loosely wrapping it around his hips. He raised his voice and called out, "Enter."

 

After a slight delay, the latch lifted, one of the castle's many servants stepping inside and practically prostrating themselves on the floor in front of Ryan.

 

"Rise," Ryan ordered in a curt tone, and the servant straightened, his already ruddy face going even redder at Ryan's state of undress. "What is your message?"

 

"My King," the slightly portly young man said breathlessly. "Lord Pattillo has requested an audience with you in the throne room. He said it was urgent."

 

Ryan made a displeased noise, then made a dismissive gesture. "Very well. Leave."

 

The servant's bow all but scraped his face along the carpet, and he scampered from the room, surprisingly nimble despite his bulk. Ryan sent Gavin an apologetic look as soon as the servant was gone. "I hate having to order people around like that," he muttered as he pulled on his clothes, not mentioning how little effort it was taking him to act so authoritative, even in the short time he'd been in the alternate world. "I have to go, I'm sorry. I'll be back soon."

 

Gavin struggled to keep the dismay from his face as he nodded. Although they both knew Ryan had become quite adept at acting like the King - frighteningly so, in an increasing number of cases - it still filled Gavin with worry every time Ryan had to do so. The concern was touching, and Ryan offered him a small smile before slipping out through the door.

 

~* * *~

 

"Sire, the council grows restless. Please, you must-"

 

"Is this what was so urgent that you sent someone to disturb my rest? We have had this discussion already, Jack. Did I not make myself clear?"

 

"There are many whisperings amongst the council members. Many mutter that you no longer act to serve the kingdom." He hesitated, licking his lips. "Some… some have even taken to openly calling you mad."

 

Ryan's expression was thunderous. "Do you mean to tell me that in the few days that I have been working myself to the bone in my laboratory, that _you_ have been doing such a poor job that there are council members uttering things that most would consider treasonous?"

 

"I have done my utmost to convince the council that you are working for the good of the kingdom, but your continued nonattendance has shaken their confidence in you. They will not listen to my entreaties. Sire, if you would only-"

 

" _ENOUGH_ , Jack!" Ryan roared, suddenly losing all patience. He came perilously close to apologising because of the way Jack suddenly flinched, as if the sheer volume the words had been projected at had checked him like a physical blow. Somehow, though, Ryan was able to keep the anger building and coiling inside him, letting it display clearly on his face. "I will not endure this repeated insubordination of yours," he hissed, eyes blazing. "Either show some loyalty and faith in my decisions, or face a suitable reprimand." His hand dropped to the hilt of the sword strapped to his waist as a warning.

 

Jack went pale at the not-so-subtle gesture. "Sire, please… I have served you faithfully most of my adult life. None understand the nuances of my position as I do."

 

"It may not be easy to replace you, Jack, but it can be done, have no doubt of that. Do not think yourself so invaluable as to continue to get away with raising my ire."

 

The bearded man gave him a stiff bow. "Of course not, sire. I would not dream of it. I offer my humblest apologies for speaking against you, I have only the kingdom's best interests at heart."

 

Ryan scratched his chin, as if deliberating over Jack's words whilst the ginger gazed up at him anxiously. "I am in a generous mood," he said eventually, and the relief that went through Jack at the words was almost palpable. "But this will the last of any dissent I heard from you," the substitute King warned. "Is that understood? There will unpleasant repercussions for you and those you love if this becomes an enduring issue."

 

What colour was left in Jack's cheeks fled, and he offered Ryan another weak-kneed bow.

 

"Tell the council that it will still be a few days more before I join them again, and that my efforts will most definitely have been worth the wait." Ryan instructed, and Jack nodded vigorously. "There is one more thing… Give the council the same caution I have just given you. If I hear of any council members continuing to question my rule and my very sanity, the results will be less than pleasant. They are lucky that the way they have been talking about their King in my absence has not earned them all an execution." He waved his hand vaguely towards the door in a dismissive motion. "That will be all."

 

Jack dropped into another clumsy bow. "Of course, sire. Thank you, sire." The bearded man all but scurried to the door to get away from the imposing figure standing tall in front of the throne.

 

As soon as the latch of the main doors to the throne room thudded shut, Ryan slumped into the plush seat behind him, sword sheath clanking dully against the golden armrest.

 

That anger, those threats, it had all come so easily. Far too easily.

 

"God, I'm turning into _him_ ," Ryan whispered to himself, horrified. He squeezed his fingers tight against his palm until his nails left little crescent moon bruises, until the nails broke through skin and blood welled under his fingertips.

 

He wanted to go home.

 

He didn't want to be in this place, where every second seemed to steal a little piece of who he was away from him, replacing it with the vindictiveness and self-serving nature of the King. The only bright spot for him was Gavin, and even that was tainted bitter, knowing how badly the young man would be treated once Ryan left. Thinking about it made his head and heart ache, so he ignored it, cradling his face in his hands and focusing on the dull tugging in his abdomen that had become as natural as breathing for him.

 

Soon.

 

It would all be over soon.

 

~* * *~

 

"Oh, no. No no no. Nono." Geoff's voice increased in pitch and panic, filling the Achievement Hunter office as he alternated between aggressive clicks of his mouse and frantic pounding of his keyboard. He slammed his hands on his desk as the mouse dragged sluggishly across the screen, jittering back and forth. "Dammit, fuck!"

 

James raised an eyebrow in the older man's direction, seeing several other heads turn in his peripheral vision. With a slight grunt, he pushed himself out of his chair, walking the few paces it took to get him to Geoff's desk, and leaned over the lead Achievement Hunter's shoulder, peering at the screen. Geoff drummed his fingers nervously against the arm of his chair. "Well?!" he all but screeched. "Is it crashing, what's happening?"

 

Saying nothing, James hit the home key and used the arrow pad to navigate to the shutdown option, hitting 'enter' on the few windows that popped up in response after several seconds' delay. The computer buzzed for a few more moments, then went quiet as the screen went black. Geoff filled the void of noise with a shouted, "What the fuck did you do that for?"

 

Hiding the sinister scowl that he wanted to give Geoff, James instead raised his eyebrow. "Relax. Your computer was overheating. It needs a couple minutes to cool down, everything should be fine."

 

Geoff subsided, suddenly sheepish. "Sorry. Just didn't want to lose a whole morning's work."

 

"I _do_ know what I'm doing." James found the fact that he had a better understanding of computers than Geoff, with only a few days of personal experience with the machines, more than a little pathetic. "And you need to save your work more often, you've always been terrible about that. It'll keep you from freaking out every time you have computer troubles, which I think benefits everyone, really."

 

Geoff rubbed his neck. "Yeah… I need to work on that."

 

"Please do," James replied, deciding the computer had had enough time to recover. He hit the power button and it hummed to life as he straightened.

 

The older man shot him a relieved smile as the computer booted back up, quickly checking a few folders to see that all his files were still in place. "Thanks, Ryan. It would've sucked dicks if it'd actually crashed."

 

"Ryan the PC guy," Ray called out from across the room, earning him a few grins.

 

"You know, Geoff," James said conversationally, yet obviously serious as he dropped a hand on Geoff's shoulder, "I'm almost impressed that you've managed to become the one in charge around here, considering how utterly incompetent you seem to be at even some of the most fundamental aspects of your job. Really, it's astounding you've managed to keep it for this long."

 

Geoff turned towards him, confusion and fury clear on his face, and James shifted his grip to the older man's neck, smacking Geoff's head against the edge of his desk and knocking him out instantly.

 

The room erupted in chaos as the other men shouted at him, demanding to know what the fuck he thought he was doing. Jack surged to his feet and charged towards him, and James kneed the bearded man in the groin, bringing Jack's head crashing down on his knee as the man automatically hunched over in pain. Michael and Ray leapt from their chairs and pulled James away, and he turned on them.

 

He slammed an elbow into Michael's nose and the redhead reared back, collapsing against his desk with blood streaming from his nostrils. James grabbed Ray by the front of his shirt, first shoving him away and then reeling him back in to throw the younger man off balance. As Ray staggered forward, James crunched the top of his head against Ray's nose, and watched the Puerto Rican fall before turning his eyes to Gavin.

 

The entire thing had taken mere seconds, and Gavin's mind hadn't yet reconciled with what was happening.

 

Gavin cowered in his chair, white-faced and fearful. When his boyfriend had said those horrible things to Geoff, had smashed their boss' head into his desk, Gavin had frozen in shock. His brain had shrieked at him to help the others to try and subdue Ryan, but his body had refused to cooperate even as he watched, horrified, as Ryan knocked Jack out, Michael and Ray following in quick succession. Gavin begged his legs to start working, to carry him out the door so he could find someone to help him stop Ryan, because god knew Gavin would never be able to bring himself to raise a hand against the older man.

 

Ryan sauntered over to him with a dark grin, and he almost looked like a different person. The strength of Ryan's body, the broad shoulders and firm arms that Gavin had always found so attractive, were suddenly terrifying. Gavin squeaked as he was contemptuously tipped from his chair, spilling clumsily onto the floor. Dimly, Gavin heard Lindsay pounding on the little glass window that let her see into the Achievement Hunter office, screaming for Ryan to stop as his hand wrapped around Gavin's throat, harshly pulling the Brit to his feet. He saw a whirl of red hair as Lindsay turned and sprinted out of her office, heading towards them. Gavin gagged as he was forcibly shoved against the door, hearing the click of the lock that meant he was trapped in the room with a man he had thought loved him.

 

"Ryan... Ryan, why..." he gasped, fingernails digging into the hands restricting his air supply. He felt blood slipping beneath his fingertips, but the grip remained firm.

 

"You have _no_ idea how hard it was to pretend I cared about you," James hissed. "Do you even realise how utterly _infuriating_ you are to be with? Honestly, the only reason I kept you around for longer than a second was for the sex." He smirked, eyes cold. "I can make you moan like a little whore for me, can't I? You were always such a slut for the attention. Still, it's not enough to outweigh all your flaws."

 

"Ryan, please... Please stop..." Gavin choked, fingers still pitifully attempting to pry the hands from his neck.

 

"What, will you _cry_ if I don't? Is facing the truth really that painful for your dim little bulb of a brain?" James scoffed, and was gratified to see tears finally leak from the corners of Gavin's eyes. "That's what I thought." He shook his head in disgust. "God, you're so pathetic it actually hurts. I can't believe I put up with you - with _any_ of you - for this long. You're all self-centred, arrogant, unobservant _idiots_ , but at least none of _them_ are nearly as loathsome as _you_."

 

There was thumping on the door now, vibrating through Gavin's body and into James', multiple raised voices pleading for Ryan to stop, that this wasn't him, that he needed to think about what he was doing. James ignored them. While he held Gavin against the door, they wouldn't be able to get in before it was too late.

 

"You have been nothing but a _colossal_ waste of my time, and I'll be glad to be rid of you." Gavin made pained noises as James sealed off his windpipe completely. James saw the agony in Gavin's eyes, the utter betrayal and soul-crushing sadness, and he basked in it, a thrill running through him with the knowledge that he'd broken Gavin all over again.

 

He was revelling in his triumph with such wholeheartedness that he didn't realise that one of the other Achievement Hunters wasn't as unconscious as they were supposed to be. That was, right up until something hard smashed against the back of his head. He had a vague second where he guessed it was probably one of the office's many gaming devices, then his grip on Gavin's neck loosened and he plunged into darkness.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *sits back and waits for people to start screaming*


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, sweethearts, sorry for the delay! Have a 3,000+ word chapter to make up for it. :)
> 
> Content warnings for lovely, lovely smut.

Ryan woke to Gavin twitching and breathing harshly, a small furrow forming between the younger man's brow as he tossed and turned. Shaking off the vestiges of sleep, Ryan placed his hands on Gavin's shoulders, gently rousing him. Gavin's eyes flew open with a slight gasp, staring at Ryan with fear and incomprehension for the split second it took his brain to wake up and remember who he was.

 

"Hey, it's okay, I'm here," Ryan soothed, voice still a little rough with sleep but comforting nonetheless. He could see that the sun hadn't even risen yet through a chink in the curtain, the pre-dawn sky stained a deep indigo touched by a glimmer of orange at the horizon. "It was just a dream."

 

Gavin sat up, pulling away slightly. He rubbed at his neck almost subconsciously. "It was about _him_."

 

The older man winced. It didn't take a genius to figure out who Gavin was talking about. He went to assure Gavin that the dream wasn't real, that he was safe, that whatever he'd been dreaming about would never happen - but the big difference between when something similar had happened with the Gavin of Ryan's world and now was that such platitudes weren't true. Once Ryan left and James returned, whatever Gavin's dream had been about could very likely become reality. "I'm sorry," he settled on eventually, the words soft as he sat up and drew the smaller man into an embrace.

 

"It is not your fault," Gavin mumbled against his collarbone, hands curling around Ryan's bare back. "I do not hold your choice to return to your rightful world against you. It _is_ where you belong, after all." He paused for a moment to recompose himself, then asked carefully, "You will be leaving today, will you not?"

 

"…If the potion takes the same amount of time to work every time, yeah." He stroked Gavin's hair. "I'm sorry," he repeated.

 

"May I… May I lie with you once more before you go?"

 

Ryan hesitated. "I don't want to make things harder on you when I'm gone. It's not fair to you."

 

Gavin pulled away so that Ryan could see his face, could see the desperation and the steely determination in his eyes. "I have asked for so few things in my life, near everything I have ever done has been to please someone else. I _want_ this. I beg of you, allow me to have this one thing."

 

The older man reached up, cupping Gavin's face. "I just don't want to hurt you. You've already been through so much." _And you'll go through so much more once I'm gone_ , he thought, feeling a familiar stab of guilt.

 

"Ryan, please. I am fully aware of what will happen once the King returns. I only wish to have more happy memories to sustain me during that time."

 

Taking a shuddering breath, Ryan finally caved and nodded. "Alright, I'll do this for you. But I want it to be on your terms, okay? I want you to set the pace. You get you decide whatever we do."

 

He'd barely finished speaking when Gavin's lips crashed down upon his, teeth clashing, moving with the frenzied urgency of a condemned man. Ryan flinched at the unexpectedness of it, and pushed gently at the younger man's shoulder, forcing their lips apart. "Gavin, take it easy," he panted. "You want this to be a good memory, right? You don't need to throw yourself at me like that."

 

"I thought you said you would let me choose?" Gavin replied, just a little petulant, his breath coming harsh and a wild look in his eyes.

 

"I did," Ryan said gently, "And I will. But I want you to think it through properly too, alright?" He gave Gavin's shoulder a light squeeze. "D'you really want our last time to be some frantic event? Wouldn't you rather it be slow and sweet, something you can savour? I thought that's what you liked about me."

 

Gavin sighed and slumped, seeming to shrink in on himself. "I'm sorry," he whispered, head ducking as he avoided Ryan's eyes.

 

"Hey, don't apologise. I get it, I really do. I just want to make sure you do too." His hand slipped back up to cup Gavin's cheek once more, gently guiding the younger man down again. He raised his own head, placing a brief, soft kiss on Gavin's lips. "Okay?"

 

"…I understand. Thank you, Ryan." He closed the gap and began kissing the older man again, but without the chaotic energy of before. Ryan kept one hand on Gavin's cheek, rubbing soothing circles with his thumb, while the other settled on Gavin's thigh, pressed against his own knee. Gavin took this as an invitation, and after a moment's indecision, he moved so that he was straddling Ryan, rather than draped somewhat awkwardly against his side. Ryan smiled encouragingly against his lips, opening his mouth slightly as he did so. Gavin let his tongue dart forward experimentally, and licked his way into Ryan's mouth. He tasted a little stale with sleep, but the unpleasant flavour soon faded and all Gavin could taste was Ryan, their tongues twining perfectly around each other. Arousal kindled deep in his abdomen, and he rocked his hips slightly against the older man, lips moving from Ryan's lips to press kisses along his jaw. He let out a groan when he felt Ryan twitch beneath him.  Suddenly, the fact that Ryan's hands were now curled loosely against the sheets was something that Gavin decided would not do at all. "Ryan, touch me," he breathed against the blond's neck, and Ryan echoed Gavin's earlier groan at the words, hands coming up to gently caress the curve and dip of Gavin's back. Gavin's nails scraped lightly at Ryan's pec, shivering at the feather-light feel of Ryan's fingertips trailing across bare skin. Gavin continued to work his lips and tongue and teeth over the expanse of Ryan's neck, too soft to leave any marks. Ryan hummed low in the back of his throat, hips twitching up involuntarily, and Gavin rolled against him in response. Their motions were languorous, but it still wasn't long before precome started to dribble from the tip of Gavin's cock, trailing slickly down the shaft and making it easier for them to grind against one another. Ryan thrust his hips towards Gavin's and groaned, neck arching under the younger man's lips, hands resting on Gavin's slender waist.

 

"Gavin," he moaned, eyes flickering shut. "You're so beautiful."

 

He swore he could feel the heat of the blush that rushed through Gavin's cheeks against his skin.

 

"Hey, can you do something for me?" he asked quietly, reaching towards the bedside table for the little bottle of oil resting atop it. Gavin was whining and writhing against him, obviously ready for it, but apparently still a little too shy to ask much of Ryan. "I'd like it if you prepared yourself," he requested softly, pressing the bottle into Gavin's palm before quickly adding, "You don't have to if you don't want, I'm more than happy to do it for you. I just thought you might want to have a go at it."

 

Gavin sat up a little, making Ryan groan and close his eyes again as the younger man shifted against him. "Are you sure you would rather that I did this?" he asked, clutching the bottle.

 

Ryan smiled, rubbing his thumb against the younger man's hip. "This is about you, Gavin. It's whatever you'd prefer. If I suggest something you're uncomfortable with, let me know. It's entirely your choice." He smiled again. "That's what I'd rather."

 

Biting his lip and cheeks flushing once more, Gavin tipped the bottle so that the oil slid down the neck and onto his waiting fingers, some spilling over and dripping onto Ryan's stomach in his eagerness. The muscles of the older man's abdomen quivered at the sudden touch of cool liquid. Ryan shifted them both back so that he was leaning against the cushions stacked in front of the headboard, to give Gavin more of a stable base. He plucked the bottle from Gavin's fingers, setting it back in its place. Gavin's clean hand settled against Ryan's shoulder, forearm resting on the older man's chest as he reached behind himself with his other hand. He gasped slightly at the feel of the oil against his rim, then pressed his slick forefinger into himself with a soft sigh. Ryan reached up, hand cradling the side of Gavin's neck and jaw, drawing the younger man in for another kiss. Gavin whimpered into Ryan's mouth as he worked himself open, rutting his hard-on against Ryan's all the while.

 

Gavin's back arched, moaning as he was able to press two fingers into himself far enough to stroke his prostate. Ryan's mouth dropped from his, instead going to the younger man's neck, placing soft kisses upon soft skin. He was glad to see that the bruises from James' harsh kisses had finally faded, but felt a small pang of sorrow knowing that they'd likely reappear before night fell. He pushed the thought out of his mind, instead focusing on pampering Gavin with his touch.

 

Soon, he had something entirely different to distract him. Bottom lip caught between his teeth in a failed attempt to stifle the noises spilling from his mouth, Gavin added a third finger and trailed his free hand through the oil he'd spilt on Ryan's stomach earlier, then wrapped his now-slicked fingers around the older man's cock.

 

"Gavin, oh my god," Ryan groaned, panting harshly against the younger man's collarbone as he began pumping Ryan in earnest. Gavin certainly seemed to enjoy giving Ryan attention like this, a pleased hum curling in his throat at the way the older man bucked and writhed beneath him, Gavin's thighs pinning him to the bed. An idea sparked in his mind, and Gavin seated himself a little further into Ryan's lap, and parted the circle of his fingers around Ryan's cock so that he could take them both in hand. They echoed each other's moans, lips meeting passionately as Gavin slowly stroked them both, still working himself open with his fingers all the while.

 

Abruptly, he decided that he was more than ready for Ryan to take him, and said as much, murmuring the words against the older man's ear, making him groan. "Would you like me on my stomach?" he asked, words heavy as he drew his fingers out of himself.

 

"We don't have to if you don't want to."

 

Gavin's brow furrowed. "What do you mean?"

 

There was a soft smile on Ryan's face. "You can stay on top, if you like." Sensing the younger man was still confused, and was possibly misinterpreting Ryan's words to mean that he didn't want to go through with actually having sex, he elaborated, "We can still… lie with one another," he said haltingly, settling on the only way he could really describe it without being vulgar, "Just with you on top, and facing me. If you want."

 

A mixture of curiosity and apprehension settled on Gavin's face. "I… I have not done anything like that before." Ryan opened his mouth to soothe him, but Gavin looked at him from under his lashes and continued, "But I would like to try."

 

Ryan smiled again. "I'm glad to hear it," he murmured, hands going to Gavin's hips to support the younger man as he moved further up Ryan's lap once more, lifting him so that the tip of Ryan's cock sat against his rim. Gavin gasped, head tipping back slightly. "Guide it in for me?" Ryan asked quietly, peppering kisses on the side of Gavin's neck. The younger man nodded, reaching between his legs, and, after a little bit of clumsy fumbling, wrapping his slender fingers around Ryan's shaft once more, holding it steady as he slowly sank onto it. Ryan pressed back against the pillows, moaning wantonly as the tight, wet heat of Gavin gradually encompassed him. Meanwhile, Gavin's fingers scrabbled against Ryan's abdomen, head back and mouth hanging open in pleasure. "Oh, _Gavin_. Gavin, Gavin, Gavin." Ryan continued to whisper his name over and over again as the younger man started to roll his hips against Ryan, a little uncertainly at first but rapidly growing in confidence, until he was bouncing upon Ryan's cock, their lusty moans heating the air.

 

A fresh stream of precome surged from Gavin's slit when Ryan circled his cock with one large hand. Ryan ran his thumb through the precome, using it and some of the oil that still remained on his stomach as lubricant to aid the smooth glide of palm and fingers over silky, taut skin. Gavin almost came undone then and there, hands draped over the older man's shoulders as he rode him.

 

As it was, he didn't last much longer, crying out with pleasure as he came over Ryan's hand. The older man was mere seconds behind him, both hands on Gavin's hips as he flung his head back against the cushions, groaning unintelligibly as Gavin mouthed mindlessly at his collarbone. Gavin slumped against him, torsos stuck together with sweat. After a few moments, Ryan helped Gavin off, the younger man whimpering a little at the sudden emptiness before curling up against Ryan's side.

 

Ryan let himself indulge in the snuggling for a couple of minutes, but they were both sticky with sweat and semen, the damp sheets below them clinging to their skin. He suggested that a bath might be in order. Gavin grudgingly agreed, and they both dressed in their dirty clothes from the day before.

 

The persistent tugging in Ryan's abdomen had faded into the background while he'd made love to Gavin, but now it returned to the forefront of his attention, slightly stronger than before. Ryan realised that he likely only had a few hours left in this world, and when they got to the royal bathing chambers, he didn't take his time, scrubbing himself efficiently before donning the clean clothes he'd brought with him. They returned to the royal chambers quickly - Ryan didn't want to run into Jack or one of the council members and have to explain why he was in a part of the castle that was so far from James' lab - and Ryan felt the tugging grow stronger all the while. Once the door was closed, he informed Gavin that he would be going very soon, and the younger man struggled not to break down.

 

"You might not want to stay here," Ryan warned softly, cupping Gavin's cheek. "If he remembers what happened while I was in this body… he'll probably be very angry with you."

 

Gavin's eyes brimmed with tears, but he shook his head. Ryan had suggested that he leave several days earlier, to flee from the castle and never look back. He'd refused then, and he refused now. As he'd pointed out when Ryan had first brought it up, James would probably find him eventually, and punish him all the worse for running away. "I will stay. I only have you for a few more moments, and I will cherish them." With that, he wrapped his arms tightly around the older man's body, shuddering with silent sobs. "I love you," he choked out.

 

Ryan felt his heart seize up with emotion. "…I love you too, Gavin. Maybe not the same way that I love the Gavin from my world, but I still love you." He smoothed a hand over Gavin's hair, drawing a shaky breath as he held the younger man close. "Promise me that whatever happens, you won't forget that."

 

Gavin squeezed him tighter, voice thick with emotion. "I promise."

 

"Please work properly," Ryan whispered to himself as the tugging grew stronger still, one particularly insistent heave tearing him from Gavin's arms and sending him to his knees. He heard Gavin cry out, but it sounded like the younger man was shouting at him from the other end of a tunnel. He whispered a quick 'I love you', hoping Gavin would be able to hear it.

 

His vision blurred, then went completely black as his mind thinned, leaving the King's body and - hopefully - hurtling back into his own.

 

~* * *~

 

In hindsight, James thought, it should have occurred to him that the system of justice worked differently in this world. It should have occurred to him to sift through his memories of Ryan's life, and check for that sort of difference - after all, the memories were a second-hand experience for James. He had to actually focus on a particular person or thing to understand how it or they worked in this world.

 

Apparently, there was some ridiculous set of rules in place that meant that rather than having the local authorities tell him off and let him be on his merry way - seeing as no one had actually been killed, mores' the pity - he was going to be locked up and subjected to a battery of demeaning tests to determine whether he was insane or not. He scowled darkly, tugging at the handcuffs on his wrists as he was delivered to the psychiatric ward of the local hospital.

 

One thing was certain, Ryan was not going to have an easy time of pleading his sanity when he got back.

 

James was going to make sure of it.

 

~* * *~

 

James made life very difficult for the doctors that day. He refused to comply with their wishes, fighting back and swearing at them until they were forced to strap him to his bed so that he wouldn't hurt himself, or anyone else. He laughed at all their attempts to implore him to cooperate for his own benefit. He either outright refused to answer the simplest of questions they gave him, or ignored them completely, instead insulting whoever asked, often threatening them as well. Even some of the more experienced doctors who tried to talk with him blanched at his vehement and detailed descriptions of how he would slowly rip them apart.

 

Eventually, he was left alone for the night. His sleep was restless, too anticipatory of how Ryan would react once he discovered what James had done. Not that he'd be able to see the full effect of his handiwork, but the knowledge alone that Ryan's life was now shattered, likely beyond repair, filled him with too much satisfaction and excitement to let his mind rest.

 

Ryan was so pathetic. He _deserved_ this. No version of James should be allowed to be content living such a mundane life.

 

Well, James had definitely fixed things there.

 

The irritating tugging on his insides, a physical indicator that he'd be crossing back to his own reality soon, suddenly grew much stronger, letting him know that 'soon' meant 'now'. A grin stretched across his face, a chuckle building in his throat that exploded into a full-blown howl of laughter. A flare of pain twinged along the cuts on his stomach as he crunched forward, but he barely noticed.

 

 _"Enjoy, Ryan!"_ he yelled, cackling madly. Then, he felt his entire being dilate as he was torn from Ryan's reality and sent flying back to his own.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You have no idea how close I was to making the part where Ryan left last chapter a shit-ton darker than it is, but I figured that I've already been cruel enough to you guys as it is.
> 
> Although, speaking of, things aren't exactly making their way towards happy this chapter either.
> 
> Content warnings for mild violence and implied future noncon.

Ryan slammed back into his native reality, gasping at the sensation of his mind snapping back into his own body. He closed his eyes and rested his head against the bed, a weary yet triumphant smile spreading across his face as he fought to catch his breath.

 

He'd done it. He'd actually done it.

 

He let out a relieved laugh, elated at his success, but bittersweet in knowing that the Gavin he'd left behind would once again become victim to James' cruel whims. The sound slowly subsided as he became aware of his surroundings - the sparse white walls, the locked door, the hard, unfamiliar mattress beneath him. He shot upright, then jerked back suddenly as his wrists refused to move forward. With encroaching horror, Ryan realised he'd been restrained to the bed.

 

"...Hello?" he called out experimentally, voice more tentative than anything he'd used for the past almost-week.

 

There was no response. He tugged desperately at the soft cuffs binding his wrists, but to no avail. Giving up on being able to break free, he looked around the room again, eyes lighting on an analogue clock hanging high on one of the walls.

 

Almost 8:00. _Breakfast_ , he mused absently, just as the door opened, revealing a rather robust female nurse somewhere in her late forties, pushing a cart loaded with hospital food.

 

"Who are you?" he asked, wrists tugging slightly against their restraints as he turned his head towards her.

 

"I'm your nurse. My name is Amelia. I recall that you said you couldn't be bothered to remember that, James," she said patiently.

 

"Sorry, Amelia. I'll remember next time." His brow furrowed with concern as he wondered whether he'd accidentally sent himself to the wrong reality. He desperately hoped he hadn't. That would be a whole new flavour of Not Good. "And I prefer to go by Ryan, if you don't mind," he added, keeping his tone polite.

 

Amelia paused carefully. "Oh? You like to go by your second name?"

 

"Yeah, my parents called me Ryan when I was growing up, and it stuck. I've always preferred it to James anyway."

 

The nurse looked a little troubled, but then her features relaxed and she gave him a small smile. It seemed just the slightest bit forced to him. "Well, Ryan, if you're okay with waiting for a bit, would you mind if I left you for a few moments?"

 

Ryan shook his head. "That's no problem."

 

She offered him another small smile and bustled out of the room, closing the door behind her. Ryan glanced briefly at the food on the cart that she had left behind, then laid back against the pillow, staring at the ceiling. He was too wound-up to feel hungry, anyway.

 

What was going on here? Clearly he was in some sort of psychiatric facility, but where? What had happened? Was he in his own reality, or not?

 

If not, he was basically fucked. It would mean there was some mentally disturbed version of himself running around in King James' body, and it was entirely possible that they wouldn't be in control of their faculties enough to be able to make that trans-dimensional crossing back to where they belonged. Not to mention that if Ryan had messed up somewhere, it wasn't particularly likely that a version of him with an impaired mind would be able to do things correctly. And even if they did, what would happen then? Ryan would be back in the King's body, back to square one.

 

The alternative was almost as bad - that James had done something while in Ryan's body that warranted confinement in a psychiatric ward. He shuddered to think of it, fear racing through him with the knowledge that James was the sort of person that would hurt those closest to Ryan because it would have the biggest impact, even if the King himself wasn't around to actually see the true extent of the damage he'd caused.

 

Even though he wasn't seeming to have the memory flashes this time around, Ryan was beginning to feel more and more sure that the latter scenario was the correct one. Dread and uncertainty mixed within him, filling him up. What had James done? Were Ryan's friends okay? Oh god, was Gavin-

 

Amelia returned with a doctor in tow, tall and thin with salt-and-pepper hair.

 

"Hello, Ryan," the doctor said pleasantly. "Amelia tells me you prefer to go by that name." Ryan nodded mutely. "I'm Doctor Brown. Do you remember me?" Ryan shook his head. "Do you know where you are?"

 

"A hospital in Austin?" he guessed.

 

"Austin General, to be precise. You were admitted yesterday," he said softly. "Do you remember what happened?"

 

Feeling very small and very lost, Ryan shook his head again. "No. I'm sorry. What happened?"

 

Doctor Brown hesitated a moment, and a horrible sinking feeling settled somewhere in Ryan's abdomen. "Don't apologise. It's entirely understandable that you've repressed the memories of the event."

 

And that was all the confirmation Ryan needed to know that James had done something terrible.

 

"Doctor, please," he begged, voice shaking. "What happened to me?"

 

~* * *~

 

James hunched over on his knees, breathing heavily.

 

"…My King? Is that you?" Gavin's tremulous voice drifted past him from somewhere to his left.

 

"…King James?" the younger man continued as James said nothing, the trans-dimensional travel a little rougher on him than it had been the first time around. He took in a few harsh gulps of air, trying to steady his breathing enough to be able to talk in an even tone of voice. He shook his head briefly, trying make himself snap out of it.

 

Gavin crept closer, one hand tentatively outstretched. "…Ryan?" he asked after a long pause.

 

James' head shot up at this, seeing the concern and compassion in Gavin's eyes. They didn't quite mask the hope lurking at the edges of Gavin's expression, and the sight of Gavin so filled with tender feeling made anger boil under James' skin. It was abundantly clear that Gavin was aware of the whole mind-swap situation, and in the span of a few days had managed to fall for Ryan. Gavin's feelings wouldn't be so openly displayed on his face if that weren't the case. James had thought he'd trained such weak emotions out of Gavin years ago, but apparently he hadn't done as good a job as he'd thought he had, if in just under a week someone as soft as Ryan could undo all that hard work, could make a broken thing like Gavin learn to love.

 

He'd just have to be more thorough this time around.

 

And he had the perfect way to start. The odds were stacked wildly in his favour; Gavin was clearly unsure whether it was James or Ryan standing in front of him. If James had been able to keep everyone in Ryan's reality convinced that he was the real deal, then it would be child's play to do the same here.

 

He let an anguished look settle on his face. "I… It was all going like it was supposed to, I don't know what happened." His shoulders slumped heavily. "It didn't work."

 

Another flash of hope flickered in Gavin's eyes, quickly smothered by guilt. James latched onto it with eager talons, his expression growing hard as he forced himself to conceal his glee. "What was that look for?" he demanded. "You wanted this to happen, didn't you? What did you do?" His voice became a snarl, his hand snaking out and grabbing Gavin roughly by the wrist. It took everything in him not to smile at the terrified look on Gavin's face. "What did you _DO_?" He shook the younger man forcefully, making him cry out.

 

"Please, Ryan, I swear to you I did nothing- I-I promised you I would not-"

 

 _"And you broke that promise!"_ James roared, and Gavin cringed, almost seeming to fold in on himself in a subconscious effort to make himself a smaller target for any physical retaliation. "I want to go _home_ , Gavin! I don't want to be here, I don't want James doing god knows what while he's in my body! What am I supposed to do now, huh?" His hand tightened, shaking Gavin again. Gavin's knees buckled from the pain. "You know it'll be at least a few days before I can actually try crossing again, right? The people I care about could be _dying_ in the meantime! How could you be so _selfish_?" The younger man flinched at every harsh word, his head dropping lower and lower until he was staring at the floor through tear-blurred eyes.

 

With a flare of triumph burning in his chest, James glared down at Gavin's diminutive form. Cowering. Submissive. Like he was supposed to be.

 

"Ryan, please, I would never…" Gavin whimpered beseechingly, tears streaking down his face. "I told you I did not want this to happen. Please, you must believe me."

 

"I don't," James hissed, dragging Gavin towards the bed, forcing him to kneel in front of it. James could see the indent where two bodies had been recently lying close together on the mattress. If he wasn't already certain of the state of affairs between Ryan and Gavin, the sight would have erased any doubt in his mind. "This is what you wanted, right? You wanted me to stay with you, to be with you." His eyes were hard and uncompromising as he twisted his free hand in Gavin's hair, forcing the younger man to turn on his knees and look up at him. "Wish granted."

 

"Please," Gavin whispered, sobbing quietly. "I know that I told you I did not want the King to return, but please remember that I also said that I would not keep you from returning to your own world."

 

James couldn't hold back his predatory grin any longer, and he let it stretch across his face, his voice smoothing out into its usual authoritative rumble. "You wished for me to remain trapped in a foreign world, did you? I believe a lesson in loyalty to your King is in order."

 

Confusion filled Gavin's gaze for a split second before being replaced by a tumultuous mix of terror and relief. "M-My King-"

 

His words stopped with a cry as James let go of his hair and backhanded him across the face. The action make Gavin's head jerk back, his body following the motion until it was halted by the vice-like grip James still had on his wrist. Gavin cried out again as the force of the blow yanked cruelly at the socket of his shoulder.

 

"You think he loves you," James hissed, twisting Gavin's arm up and back and driving the younger man face-down against the cold stone floor. "If he loves you, why is he not here? He would not have had any illusions about my return once he resumed his place in his own world. He would have known that he was leaving you to receive whatever punishments I saw fitting in light of your betrayal."

 

"He loves me." Gavin choked through the words, his airway constricted by the hand wrapped around his neck and holding him against the ground.

 

James laughed. "Abandoning you to my mercy is an interesting way for him to show it."

 

"He loves me," Gavin repeated, an unexpected fire in his voice as he glared at the King. "I know it in my heart, and I will never forget it. You will never make me believe otherwise."

 

James' grip slackened just the slightest, mind suddenly filled with the memories of gentle words and loving caresses. He shook himself angrily once the thoughts had finished playing through his head, then shoved them to the side, locking them away deep inside his mind, where they would never see the light of day again. He tightened his grip on Gavin once more.

 

_Pathetic._

 

With a scowl, James hauled the younger man to his feet, tossing him onto the bed. "We shall see about that."

 

But Gavin remained uncowed, eyes blazing with defiance. Ryan had shown him what a relationship was meant to be like; he'd shown Gavin more kindness in under a week than James had shown him in almost a decade. Gavin felt his resolve harden, stronger than any sword or shield.

 

James could do absolutely anything he wanted, but Gavin would never break again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> …And that's all we'll be hearing from James' universe for the time being. Rest assured, there'll still be plenty of Ryan dealing with the shattered wreck that James has turned his life into, don't you worry about that.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, I'm alive!
> 
> Sorry about the wait, I had a whole plethora of issues keeping me from writing for this or CTT - what with needing a new laptop, it arriving way after it was supposed to, coinciding with the three and a half weeks spent without internet that meant I couldn't activate Microsoft Office on it to write with (seeing as I keep all my story notes on OneNote, which I was only able to access on my phone), and then the fact that the entry I wrote for the Ragehappy secret Santa ended up at just over 11K words...
> 
> But enough of that, on with the fic! Enjoy!
> 
> Content warnings for references to the bad things that have happened in previous chapters.

_"Doctor, please," Ryan begged, voice shaking. "What happened to me?"_

 

~* * *~

 

Doctor Brown sighed almost imperceptibly. "You suffered a mental breakdown, Ryan," he said gently. "It happens. You would have been confused and angry, it really is entirely understandable that you don't remember."

 

"But what happened?" Ryan persisted, becoming more than a little on edge.

 

"Ryan, you've only just become aware of yourself again. You're likely still fragile, it would be for the best to take things slowly."

 

Ryan shook his head. "I can handle it," he said firmly. "You can't just tell me something happened and then not actually tell me what happened. Please, I need to know. I'll just construct worse and worse scenarios in my head, you can't tell me that's a healthier option."

 

The doctor sighed heavily, looking troubled. "To begin with… there was an instance of self-mutilation-"

 

"What?" Ryan interrupted, wide-eyed and bewildered. But, even as it was mentioned, he became aware of the faint sting of pain across his lower abdomen, unnoticed in his earlier panic. He swallowed thickly, dreading yet frantic to know what James had done to him. "Show me," he demanded, then flinched at how commanding his voice was. It was going to take a little bit of getting used to the fact that he wasn't the one in charge of everything anymore. "Please," he added quickly, the word soft and sincere.

 

Amelia glanced at the doctor, who nodded after a half-second of hesitation, seeming to realise Ryan would probably just find a way to get a look at his injury on his own once they left. Ryan kept his hands open and palms-down on the bed, sitting up a little on his elbows so he could see what she was doing. She lifted his shirt up to his waist and pushed the front of his pants low on his hips, exposing the sterile pad that had been stuck over the skin just below his bellybutton. With careful fingers, she peeled at the medical tape securing the pad, and he craned his neck to see the damage James had done.

 

It took him a few seconds to decipher the upside-down letters etched into his skin, and when he did it felt like his heart had simultaneously jammed itself in his throat and dropped down into his stomach.

 

"No," he managed in a choked whimper. Amelia quickly covered the wound up, but the image was burned into his mind, the bold, bloodied all-caps behind his eyelids when he squeezed his eyes shut.

 

PROPERTY OF THE MAD KING.

 

 _Don't you ever forget this, Ryan,_ his own voice hissed in his ear, cruel and filled with glee. It took him a second to realise that it was James, that he was remembering what the other man had done while in his body. Then, the memories were crashing uncontrollably through his mind: slowly carving the letters into Ryan's abdomen; fucking Gavin as roughly as the younger man could stand, knowing that Gavin _enjoyed_ it, knowing that Ryan himself would never be able to do the same; knocking out two thirds of the main Achievement Hunter office - _oh god, no no please no, stop, STOP_ \- savage pleasure coursing through him as he throttled Gavin-

 

 

"Gavin!" Ryan cried out, eyes flying open and swinging wildly to the nurse and the doctor. "Is he okay? Please, please tell me he's alright, tell me he isn't… he's not…" The words lodged in his throat, refusing to be said. He sat up, yanking at his restraints in his panic.

 

Amelia eased him back down onto the bed. "Careful, Ryan, you'll hurt yourself."

 

"Mr Free is fine," Doctor Brown was quick to soothe him. "He has some bruising, and his throat will be sore for a few days, but there was no permanent damage." The doctor's eyes were soft, if a little confused. "I see you've begun to remember. I have to admit, that's quite uncommon in a case like this."

 

Ryan leaned back, eyes closing again as tears trickled from the corners. "This shouldn't have happened," he whispered. "I shouldn't have let this happen."

 

"You have to realise, what happened wasn't your fault, Ryan," the Doctor assured him gently. "The nature of mental illness is that sometimes people will hurt those they care about without meaning to, or without being able to control it. I can promise you, Mr Free will be physically fine."

 

 _What about mentally?_ Ryan wanted to ask, but was too afraid of the answer. "What about the others?" he asked instead. "Geoff, Jack, Michael, Ray - are they okay, too?"

 

He relaxed a little when the doctor nodded again. "A few headaches and bruises, and broken noses that have already been seen to for Mr Jones and Mr Narvaez. All four of them are otherwise alright." He straightened the cuff of his coat. "Now, you've obviously had a stressful start to your morning, so if you'd like, I can hold off running some more tests for you until later today." Ryan nodded meekly. "Alright, then. I'll let Amelia here give you your breakfast, and I'll come back once you've had some time to rest."

 

"Wait!" Ryan called pleadingly as the doctor turned to leave. "Can I have these taken off?" He rattled one of his cuffs against the bedframe.

 

Doctor Brown regarded him with sympathetic eyes. "I'm afraid not. Until we know more about your condition, we need to act as if you could have another episode at any given time. We just want to make sure no one, including you, gets hurt before we can figure out how to make you better. Alright?"

 

Ryan bit his lip. He knew that it would be impossible for him to have another 'episode' without at least a few day's warning, but there was no way to explain that without making it seem like another symptom of his non-existent mental disease. With a sigh, he nodded his understanding. "Thank you, Doctor," he said, somehow managing to stop the words from sounding bitter.

 

~* * *~

 

Ryan wasn't surprised when the doctors were unable to give him a proper diagnosis for his supposed mental disorder. He explained as much as he could to them - he even told them about the alternate world he'd been stuck in, but phrased it like he thought it was just a particularly vivid series of dreams.

 

He was so convincing that he almost started to believe it had all happened in his mind himself.

 

But he knew it was too real to just have been conjured up by his own mind. He remembered all the sensations - the sights, the smells, the tastes, the sounds, the touch. He couldn't have imagined a world as deeply immersive as the alternate reality had been.

 

It _had_ to be real, because otherwise it meant that it really was just an aspect of Ryan himself that had wanted to harm Gavin and his friends, and even the thought that he couldn't blame James for what had happened threatened to break him.

 

So he believed that everything had actually happened the way his memories were telling him they did, because for his own sanity and general wellbeing he didn't really have a choice.

 

In the end, the closest thing the doctors came to diagnosing him with was dissociative personality disorder, the more medically accurate name for the colloquially known multiple personality disorder. But, since except for the obvious duality of self, Ryan was so asymptomatic for the disorder, this diagnosis wasn't actually confirmed. Aside from perhaps some very mild PTSD, the doctors could find nothing immediately wrong with Ryan's mental health. Eventually, they decided that Ryan was simply one of those rare one-off cases. As such, they no longer had cause to hold Ryan at the hospital, and they discharged him under the stipulation that he attend a weekly therapy session until it could be determined whether or not any long-term effects of his ordeal would crop up. 

 

~* * *~

 

His mother had flown out from Georgia in order to pick him up, and Ryan genuinely appreciated her concern, even though he knew she would spend the whole time hovering over him. He gathered the few things that had been on him when he was admitted. Really, it was just his wallet, his keys and the clothes that he - that _James_ \- had been wearing when he'd attacked everyone in the Achievement Hunter office. His mother had been thoughtful enough to bring a change of clothes, old things he'd left behind last time he visited family in Georgia. He thanked her, but didn't mention just how much he appreciated not having to wear something that James had while in control of his body. He was gripped by a sudden, irrational desire to gather all the clothes James had worn when masquerading as Ryan, and to just burn them, to obliterate them from the face of the earth. He pushed the thought away and followed his mother out to the hospital car park, climbing into the passenger seat of her hire car.

 

The ride home was predictably painful.

 

His mother tried so hard to engage him in a normal conversation, talking like nothing had happened. She kept throwing worried glances his way, and as a result was probably not keeping her eyes on the road quite as much as she should. She drove at a speed several miles below the limit to compensate.

 

Ryan would have been concerned about her lack of focus, if he'd noticed it. As it was, his eyes were glued to his lap.

 

He couldn't stop staring at his hands.

 

He remembered the conversation he'd had with Gavin, all those months ago - what felt like decades ago, now - about how if someone else did something while they controlled his body, then it was entirely out of his experience. Even if there was some form of recording of it, it still wasn't him, and so it wouldn't affect him.

 

Now, he realised he'd been wrong.

 

All he could see when he looked at his own hands was how they'd wrapped so firmly around Gavin's throat, slowly squeezing the life from him. He could even see some scabbed over scratches and small, moon-shaped lines on the back of his hands, half-healed cuts from Gavin's nails as the younger man had tried so desperately to pry those hands away from his neck. Those hands had nearly been responsible for Gavin's death, and Ryan was going to have to use them every day for the rest of his life. He wondered if there would ever be a time in the future that he'd be able to touch Gavin, without remembering the way James had tightened those fingers around the younger man's neck.

 

He wondered if Gavin would ever let Ryan touch him again to begin with.

 

"We're home!" his mother declared with false brightness, bringing the car to a halt on the driveway.

 

Ryan's head finally lifted. "Hm?"

 

Her smile faltered slightly before she forced it back into place. "We're home, sweetheart."

 

"Right." Ryan shook himself and got out of the car, staring up at the house. It suddenly seemed somehow unfamiliar - almost unfriendly, almost… accusatory, like it was blaming him for what had happened. Like it was demanding that he at least say sorry.

 

He shook himself again. The house was just a house, he reminded himself, feeling stupid for even having to think that. It wasn't sentient. It had no emotions.

 

He squared his shoulders and headed for the door, still feeling the need to apologise.


	14. Chapter 14

Ryan stepped inside and immediately noticed something was wrong. There were things missing around the house, and for a confused moment, Ryan thought he'd been robbed by a thief with very eclectic tastes before it clicked painfully into place.

 

Gavin had moved back into his old loft at Geoff's.

 

 _Of course he has,_ Ryan berated himself internally. He should have known that Gavin wouldn't want to be somewhere that would only remind the younger man of him, and he certainly wouldn't be anywhere near ready to stay under the same roof as Ryan. Not to mention that the hospital hardly would have let Ryan return to the same house as Gavin, especially so short a period of time after he'd supposedly tried to strangle the younger man.

 

It didn't make the house feel any less empty with all of Gavin's things gone, little voids scattered throughout the living space that left Ryan feeling hollow.

 

He pushed the feeling aside and ushered his mother through the door.

 

"Little emptier than last time," she commented, peering around.

 

Ryan swallowed thickly. "Gavin's taken his things already."

 

She covered her mouth. "Oh sweetie, I'm so sorry, I didn't know he'd-"

 

"It's fine, Mom." He steered her towards the living room, sitting her down on the couch. "Just wait here, I'll set up the guest bedroom for you."

 

She smiled gently, waving her hands at him. "Don't worry about it, I can take care of it myself. Just show me where your linen cupboard is, you don't have to worry about me."

 

Ryan's voice cracked. "Mom, please."

 

Her eyes softened as she realised Ryan's need to something helpful and non-destructive. She patted his hand. "You go right ahead then, sweetheart. I'll fix you something to eat - I'm sure you'll be wanting a nice meal after all that boring hospital food."

 

Ryan untensed a little and headed for the hallway. His mother watched him go, smile wobbling slightly as she stood back up and made her way to the kitchen. 

 

The bedcovers Ryan knew his mother liked because she'd complimented them last visit were still sitting in their designated spot, right in the back of the linen cupboard. He pulled them down, then moved to the guest bedroom, setting the bedcovers on the mattress as he fetched the blanket and pillows for the bed from the room's cupboard. He made the bed quickly, frowning as he noticed the thin layer of dust coating the sparse furniture. It had been a while since anyone had stayed in the room, and both Gavin and himself had been a little lazy about cleaning it when it wasn't in use.

 

His mother was the type that seemed to enjoy killing time by tidying everything, though, not to mention that she would surely feel the need to pay him back for his hospitality - even though she was there more for his benefit than her own in the first place. He didn't doubt that the house would be spick and span by the time she left, and any attempts on his part to help would be swatted away with something along the lines of, 'it's the least I can do' or 'let me take care of things, you just focus on resting and getting better'.

 

But Ryan had had enough of resting. He'd spent most of his time at the hospital tethered to his bed, and even though his was still tired - seeing how his sleeping habits were even worse now than they had been before everything that had happened - he was fidgety and wound up. He needed to _do_ something.

 

"Mom?" he called out, exiting the guestroom. He heard the dim, questioning lilt of her voice, but was unable to make out the words as they were muffled by the walls. He moved closer to the kitchen, popping his head around the doorframe. "Mom?"

 

"Yes, dear? I'm not quite done here yet, you'll have to wait a moment more for your food." She smiled gently at him, slicing vegetables with practiced efficiency.

 

Ryan's stomach twisted unpleasantly when he realised that the knife she was using was the same one James had used to carve the message into Ryan's abdomen. The injury twinged and he forced himself to keep the reaction from showing on his face.

 

Suddenly he wasn't all that hungry anymore.

 

"I'm going to go outside for a bit," he heard himself say, putting on a reassuring expression. "I've been cooped up inside for days, I need some proper fresh air." At her concerned look, he added, "I'll take my mobile with me, I'll call you on the landline if anything happens."

 

"…Alright. Be safe out there, sweetie."

 

He smiled softly. "I will," he promised, then made his way to his room to change into something more suitable for going for a run. Luckily, it was something he'd attempted halfheartedly a few times before, in order to get a little more in shape. He pulled the barely used running clothes down from his shelf, eyes avoiding the bed because it seemed empty and far too large for one person. He stared at the ground as he changed, then passed back through the kitchen on his way out so he could let his mother know he didn't plan on being out much longer than an hour, but that he'd call her if that changed. She told him she'd put the sandwich she'd made for him in the fridge for when he got back. He left with a grateful smile, the way his mother was humming as she cleaned off the countertop reminding him of his childhood.

 

He had a sudden urge to go back to an innocent time like that, where the worst thing that could happen was scraping his knees after falling off his bike or getting a stomachache from eating too much ice cream.

 

He swallowed convulsively and left the house before he could start crying.

 

His lungs drew in a deep breath of air and his feet began walking him down his driveway, onto the footpath. He felt his pace increase, going from a stroll to a powerwalk to a jog to a run. Before he knew it, he was all but sprinting along the path, legs churning and arms pumping. He didn't think about where he was going - he just went. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he registered the fact that even if he did get lost, he could easily use the GPS on his phone to get back home, but the majority of his focus went towards forcing himself to greater speeds. On his previous attempts at doing a serious run, he had never been able to find the motivation to really keep going, but this time, once he'd started, he didn't think he'd be able to stop unless his legs gave out. There was some part of him that seemed to believe that if he ran quickly enough, he'd be able to run away from his problems altogether. With the sheer amount of work that faced him trying to get his life back to normal after what James had done, it certainly seemed to be the easier option.

 

He pelted down the street like it was the only thing he knew how to do anymore.

 

His hospital stay and his largely sedentary lifestyle meant that it didn't take long for him to start to feel the effects of such an explosive burst of exercise. Soon, he had to slow from his mad sprint to a more measured running pace. This still left him with burning lungs and muscles that he knew would be sore the next day - that were starting to get sore already - but how freeing the experience was for his mind overcame his physical discomfort. The breeze sifted through his hair, cool against the places where he'd started to sweat, and he ploughed steadily on.

 

He ran until he could pretend that he could forget about everything that had happened, and then he ran some more. Finally, he came to a gasping, heaving stop, hands on his knees and sweat in his eyes as a stitch tore at his side.

 

Blinking his eyes clear, Ryan looked up to see where his mindless dash had taken him, and the blood rushing through him went cold.

 

He was outside the Rooster Teeth studios. He could see the outside of the Achievement Hunter office from where he was standing. If he walked a little further, he'd be able to see everyone.

 

He'd be able to see Gavin.

 

But all the reasons he had for going inside were all the reasons why he couldn't.

 

His breathing still jagged, he ducked back and pulled out his phone, checking the time. The display flashed and informed him that he'd already been gone just over half an hour. He sighed, knowing that it would take him longer to get home than it had to get here. He turned and jogged back the way he had come, trying to pretend that the way his eyes were stinging was because of sweat, not tears.

 

~* * *~

 

By the time he got home, his shirt was clinging to him, sweat sticking to his flushed skin. The Texas sun had been thankfully mild that day, so the redness of his face was entirely to do with exertion, and wasn't the precursor to a painful sunburn.

 

He wiped his hand on a dry section of his shorts and opened the front door. His mother had already gone into cleaning mode - he could hear the vacuum going in one of the rooms.

 

Managing the smallest twitch of a smile, Ryan entered the kitchen and made a beeline for the fridge, pulling out the sandwich his mother had made for him. At that point, he was entirely too hungry to care about the tools that had been used in the sandwich's preparation, and he scarfed it down greedily, barely stopping short of licking his plate clean once he was done.

 

He brought the plate to the sink, quickly washing it before putting it in the drying rack to let the suds drip off.

 

His eyes drifted to the knife rack.

 

With a small, sharp shake of his head, he went to the garage, hunting among the piles of miscellaneous objects until he found the box for his and Gavin's flatscreen. Glad now that they hadn't yet tossed the thing, Ryan pulled out a large piece of styrofoam, breaking off a chunk about the length of his hand. He returned to the kitchen and plucked the small knife from its holder, then jammed it inside the styrofoam to stop it from piercing through the garbage bag once he tossed it in the trash.

 

He closed the lid on the bin, closed his eyes, and let out a long breath.

 

His shoulders started to tremble.

 

How the hell was he supposed to make up for everything that had happened? Gavin had nearly died because of James, and Ryan couldn't blame anyone but himself. It didn't matter to him that it wouldn't have made a difference how fast he'd worked, James would have done what he did as soon as he realised he was being dragged back to his own reality. His mind still told him that surely there was _something_ he could have done to prevent things turning out the way they did - that he just hadn't thought hard enough, hadn't worked hard enough.

 

Not to mention the additional conundrum he was now faced with - if he considered James as a distinct person, separate from himself, he had to treat everyone from that reality in the same way. That included Gavin, meaning that Ryan had cheated on his boyfriend with what was, essentially, Gavin's twin. 

 

And however much he rejected the idea and loathed himself for thinking of it in such a light, the alternative was to acknowledge the fact that James was simply the type of person Ryan himself would be if exposed to the same lifestyle and upbringing.

 

He had to accept the fact there was a part of him that was capable of betraying Gavin or wanting to kill him, and he didn't want to choose either.

 

The vacuum went quiet and Ryan darted from the kitchen to the bathroom, not wanting his mother to see him with tears on his face. He couldn't deal with her sympathy at that exact moment.

 

He didn't feel like he deserved it.

 


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is somewhat filler, and so is a little bit shorter than the others. Important things still happen, though.
> 
> Content warning for a brief bit of dreamed violence at the beginning.

It was well past midnight before Ryan managed to fall asleep that night, and he only had a few hours of peaceful slumber before he was tossing and turning, brow furrowed as a nightmare gripped him.

 

_Hands, tight around Gavin's neck-_

 

_Gavin pleading, begging him to let go, tears in his eyes and he tried in vain to pry Ryan's fingers loose, words cutting off as Ryan's grip tightened further-_

 

_The younger man's struggles gradually weakening until they stopped completely, the light fleeing from his eyes-_

 

Ryan lurched awake with a gasp, then groaned. His whole body ached. He'd done some basic cool-down stretches after his run the day before, but his muscles were unused to such strenuous exercise. Sweat clung to him stalely, a reminder of a bad night's sleep. _Just a dream,_ he told himself fiercely, trying to force his pounding heart and panting breath to slow.

 

He glanced over at his clock. 6:45. He made a displeased noise in the back of his throat, knowing that he'd never get to sleep again at that time, and that he'd spent the rest of the day tired. After about half an hour of lying in his bed and not particularly wanting to move, he finally let out a sigh and heaved himself up, groaning again as fresh pain rippled through him. Stiffly, he got dressed and headed for the kitchen, managing a smile when he saw his mother had already made breakfast for him. A stack of steaming golden waffles waited for him, being kept warm on the stove. To one side was a jar of honey and a small bowl of assorted berries for him to augment the meal. A paper note was pinned under the jar, letting him know that his mother had gone to the grocery store to restock the contents of his fridge and pantry.

 

He gathered his breakfast materials, then grunted slightly as he sat, his body complaining once more. First drizzling a generous amount of honey onto the stacks, then topping them with the berries, Ryan dug into the waffles with gusto, trying to shake off the remnants of the nightmare. _Just a dream._ Their sweet, fluffy texture filled his mouth and he closed his eyes, transported back to lazy Sunday mornings in his childhood home, stuffing himself full of the breakfast pastry until he was fit to burst. These days, he had the common sense to only eat until he was no longer hungry. Fortunately, his mother had long ago perfected the art of making just enough food to sate everyone's appetite - including a spare waffle for Ryan, because he'd never been able to keep himself from asking for more.

 

Ryan smiled at the memory. He really didn't know how he hadn't ended up being more rotund as a child. Even now, besides his recent foray into running, Ryan had maintained a bare minimum amount of exercise, yet still managed to keep himself in fairly decent shape. In that aspect, at least, he'd been lucky.

 

Polishing off the last few berries on his plate, Ryan moved his dishes to the sink, washing them before his mother came back home and took them from his hands. He towelled everything dry and placed them in their respective drawers or cupboards.

 

Then he stood in the middle of the kitchen, at a complete loss for what to do.

 

After a few moments, he shook himself, heading to the bathroom. He needed to brush his teeth still, and to shower and shave. He'd built up a bit of stubble during his hospital stay that he wanted to get rid of. James had kept a small beard, and Ryan wanted to do away with as many similarities between them as he could.

 

That took all of about fifteen minutes.

 

He wandered back to the living room and attempted to watch some TV, flicking through channels at random. Programs that would normally interest him couldn't seem to hold his attention, nor could video games when he decided to fire something up on his Xbox. He put the control down with a sigh, running his hand through his hair. A book he'd been reading on and off for the past few months caught on the edge of his vision, and he picked it up from the coffee table where he'd last left it. With another, slightly more aggravated sigh, he almost immediately set it back down again, slumping sourly against the couch cushions.

 

He was restless and bored, but he didn't think his body was up to going on another run yet.

 

He missed Gavin.

 

His phone rang and he jumped before scrambling to pick it up. Burnie's name flashed on the screen and he bit his lip. With everything that had happened, it didn't even occur to him to tell anyone besides his mother that he was out of hospital.

 

"Hey, Burnie, what's up?" He forced some modicum of casualness into his voice in an attempt to put Burnie at ease.

 

_"Hey Ryan. The hospital called me yesterday to let me know you were out."_

 

Ryan ran a hand through his hair again. "Yeah, I know I should have called you myself, even if I-"

 

 _"Ah, don't sweat it,"_ the older man replied. _"Anyway, figured I'd give you at least a day to yourself before checking up on you."_

 

There was an awkward pause. "Thanks, Burnie," Ryan said after a while, figuring that he was waiting for Ryan to speak. "So that was why you called? To check up on me? Because I'm doing alright, I think, all things considered. My mom's come down from Florida to stay with me for a while."

 

 _"That's good. Good to hear."_ Another pause. Burnie cleared his throat. _"Listen, I didn't_ just _call to check up on you, though it really is good to hear you're doing okay._ " He took a short breath.

 

 _"I'd like you to come in to work tomorrow, if you feel up to it,"_ Burnie told him. _"Just a half-day, nothing too strenuous, and you'd be in my office rather than with the rest of the Achievement Hunters, because, y'know…"_ He trailed off momentarily before continuing. _"It's just, working at a place like this, we've gotta try to get things back to normal ASAP, and you've already been gone for a week. That being said, if you're not ready yet, don't push yourself. That won't help anyone, least of all you, and the last thing I want is for things to be worse for you."_

 

Ryan recognised the fact that Burnie wanted him in his office in order to keep an eye on him. It also made Burnie a prime target if something happened, and although Ryan knew that the perceived danger wasn't actually real, no one else did. He was struck by how incredibly selfless Burnie was being, and took a moment to reply.

 

"…Yeah. I can manage a half-day. Thanks, Burnie."

 

 _"No problem. Does seem like every time I finally manage to get my own office space I have someone else move in, though,"_ he joked.

 

"I'll get out of your hair ask quickly as possible," Ryan promised, and he could almost sense Burnie waving his hands affably through the phone.

 

_"Ryan, seriously, don't even worry about it. You can take as long as you need, and as long as everyone else needs. I just want to make sure everyone recovers to the best of their ability."_

 

"Believe me, so do I."

 

_"And I'll let Geoff know you'll be in the building, so he can tell the guys, keep them out of your way for now."_

 

Ryan wanted to protest at the exclusion zone that was being set up around him, but knew the necessity of it. He swallowed and nodded, despite knowing Burnie couldn't see it. "Got it."

 

_"See you tomorrow, then? Maybe come in a little early, so that you don't accidentally run into one of the other Achievement Hunter guys on the way in?"_

 

"Yeah. Good idea." Ryan hesitated a moment. "And thank you again, Burnie. I know it would have been a lot easier for you to just fire me, instead of giving me another chance like this. I really do appreciate it."

 

_"Well, I mean, we're all friends here, right? It'd be pretty cold of me to leave you in the lurch after everything that happened. I'll see you tomorrow."_

 

"Yeah. See you then."

 

Ryan hung up his phone and let out a shaky breath. Well, at least he'd have something to do the next day.

 

A car rumbled up his driveway and he peeled himself from the couch, reaching the front door at the same time as his mother. Her arms were laden with several bags of shopping, and he was quick to relieve her of her burden.

 

As per usual, she'd bought far more food than was strictly necessary, so once he'd hauled his load into the kitchen, he had to take another two trips out to her car to retrieve the rest of her shopping. Stacking everything away only took a few minutes, but at least it was eating up some time.

 

Once they were done, his mother smiled and kissed him on the cheek, thanking him for his help before she retreated to the living room. She switched on the TV, flicking through the different channels until she found an episode of some god-awful daytime TV soap opera that she loved. Ryan shook his head fondly and sat down with her, struggling not to laugh at the hackneyed plot and dramatic overacting. It was boring for him, but in an almost soothing way. He mused briefly that a time-wasting option was to simply sleep as much as he could until the next day arrived. Then his eyelids started to slide shut, head drooping to rest on the arm of the couch as he slowly began to drift off.

 

The last thing he remembered before he fell asleep was his mother fetching a blanket to drape over him. Then, with a soft smile, his eyes shut completely and he fell into a dreamless doze.

 


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologise for the wait, this chapter's a little longer than usual to make up for it :)
> 
> Content warnings for mild physical violence and blood.

"Morning, Ryan," Burnie greeted him in the near-empty parking lot, having arrived mere seconds before the younger man had.

 

"Morning," he replied, feeling awkward.

 

They headed inside in silence. It was always eerie, being in the building so early - they weren't currently in crunch, so they were the first ones there for the day.

 

"Got the Adams to move your computer in here yesterday," Burnie told him as they entered his office. Ryan thanked him quietly and things resumed their awkwardness, Burnie wordlessly sitting at his desk and getting to work.

 

Trying to ignore it, Ryan booted up his computer and slipped on his headphones, pulling up the last video he'd been editing.

 

He hit play and an unexpected lump formed in his throat as the main cast of the Achievement Hunters' voices, including his own, filled his ears. A choked noise escaped him and he tore off the headphones, breathing hard.

 

Burnie's head shot up immediately. "You okay there, Ryan?"

 

"Yeah, I'm-" He cleared his throat and swallowed. "I'm fine. I can do this." _I hope._

 

Breathing deeply, Ryan paused the video and started it from the beginning, putting his headphones back on. The air trembled on its way out of his lungs as the cheerful bickering began again.

 

The video was a GTAV Let's Play that had been filmed over a month ago, due to be out the following Monday. A strange shrivelling sensation curled around Ryan's heart when he realised that he'd eventually get to a point where he'd have to edit content that James was in. Everything in him baulked at the idea, and he flinched even as his on-screen character tossed a grenade into a crowd of vehicles, his own manic laughter assaulting his ears as the screen lit up with explosions.

 

If he was ever allowed to go back to working in the Achievement Hunter office, he knew that none of the others would be anywhere near as likely to make jokes about his sanity. Not after everything that had happened. With a troubled sigh, he forced himself to focus on his work, doing his best to push his misgivings to the back of his mind.

 

Despite his own trepidation, Ryan gradually felt himself fall into the flow of editing the video. The hours always passed easily at the computer, more so without all the extraneous chatter and noise produced with five other people in the room, and before Ryan knew it the lunch hour had rolled around. He sat back in his chair, pulling off his headphones and shooting Burnie an enquiring glance. The older man noticed the flicker of motion and looked over, giving Ryan a small nod.

 

"You should probably get going before everyone comes back in from lunch," he said gently, even though they both knew already that it had been the plan to have Ryan leave early. "Good work today. See you tomorrow."

 

Ryan saved his work and powered down his computer, gathering his things. "See you tomorrow," he echoed, and headed out the door.

 

As he left, he couldn't help but make a detour to the Achievement Hunter office. He knew it was stupid, but he also knew that the others would try to get Gavin out of the building as often as possible, and that the younger man wouldn't be there.

 

No noise came from inside, and despite all the things in him that screamed how bad an idea it was to even be there, he pushed the door open. He just needed to see that things hadn't really changed.

 

For the most part, they hadn't.

 

His desk had, though.

 

He nearly smacked himself for not registering the fact that if his computer was set up in Burnie's office, then of course it wouldn't be in the Achievement Hunter office, but that wasn't all. Besides the consoles and controllers stacked neatly to one side, his desk was empty, completely cleared of all his little knick-knacks. He supposed the others had just been trying to avoid reminders of him for Gavin's sake, but the absence of his possessions made him feel lost. It was like there was simply a void between Jack and Geoff's workstations.

 

It took him several seconds too long to realise that Geoff was sitting at his desk and staring at him.

 

"…Hi," he said after several tense seconds, gripping the doorframe like it was grounding him in reality. He didn't dare to step fully into the room.

 

"Burnie told me you'd be back today."

 

"I… yeah. Listen, I shouldn't have stopped by, I'll just-"

 

"Ryan." The word was soft, but Ryan cut himself off immediately. Geoff stood and beckoned him forward, an unreadable look in his tired eyes. "We need to talk."

 

The blond reluctantly loosed his death grip on the doorframe and took a few steps inside. His breath came out shaky. "Geoff, I really don't have words for how sorry I am, for everything. I just… I feel like I should've been able to stop what happened. I'm so sorry I couldn't."

 

"I know it wasn't your fault, Ryan," Geoff said eventually, and the blond felt himself relax just the slightest. That was, until Geoff continued speaking. "But there's a dumb part of me having a tough time believing that. I really want to get you back for slamming my face into a desk, even though you weren't really yourself."

 

 _You don't know the half of it,_ Ryan thought grimly.

 

"I mean…" Geoff shook his head and sighed, struggling to find the words. "I know we used to joke about it all the time, but I don't think any of us really expected you to snap like that. Knowing that you could do that to us… it was fucking terrifying, man. If Jack hadn't hit you with his Xbox, you could've killed Gavin." His voice broke on the last few words.

 

Ryan ran a hand through his hair, tugging just a little sharply. "I won't let anything like that happen again, Geoff, I swear to you. I'll know the warning signs if I ever feel it coming on again, and I'll admit myself for treatment." Ryan was determined that if James did ever try to return, he wouldn't get any further than the inside of a psych ward. "I don't ever want any of you to be hurt like that again because of something I could've stopped."

 

"I know you'd never hurt one of us on purpose, buddy," Geoff replied, hesitating even as he stepped closer and put his hand on Ryan's shoulder. Like he was concerned that the younger man would grab him by the wrist and start slamming him into furniture again. "But it's going to take a while for all of us to accept that. In the meantime… I think we should hold off on you coming back to filming stuff with Achievement Hunter, at least for a while. It's just too hard right now."

 

Even though he knew it had been coming, the words hit him like a physical blow, made even worse by the way Geoff tensed as if expecting some sort of retaliation from him. "It's okay, Geoff, I get it. And I've talked with Burnie about it already. I wouldn't want to work with me right now either. I do hope we can get there eventually, though."

 

Geoff gave him a squeeze. "We will," he assured. "I'll be honest, I don't know that things'll ever be the way they were. But maybe one day, we'll get close enough that it doesn't matter."

 

"I definitely hope so." Ryan managed the ghost of a smile. "I… I guess I'll head home, then."

 

"Yeah, probably a good idea," Geoff replied awkwardly, folding his arms and breaking eye contact. "Gavin's supposed to be out until the end of the lunch hour, but I'd rather you didn't take any chances by hanging around. He isn't ready to see you again, yet."

 

"Of course. Well… bye, then," Ryan murmured, throat sticking a little. He wasn't entirely surprised when he didn't get a verbal reply, just a firm nod and a non-committal hum. Shoulders drooping just the slightest, Ryan continued on his way to the front door.

 

Unfortunately, his chat with Geoff had burned through a precious few minutes, and by now several staff members had started to return from lunch.

 

Included among them were Michael and Jack.

 

The two Achievement Hunters were engrossed in conversation, and hadn't yet spotted Ryan. But he froze like a deer in headlights, knowing he was too far down the corridor to be able to hide before they saw him.

 

Ryan cringed, knowing that Michael's reaction to seeing him wasn't going to be pretty. The redhead was still sporting the remnants of the bruise James had given him, the flesh around his nose mottled faintly with purple and yellowy-green.

 

"Look, I'm not saying you're wrong- wait, no that's exactly what I'm saying. The point is-" Michael stopped mid-sentence as he caught sight of Ryan, his face turning thunderous.

 

"Michael-" Ryan started, voice conciliatory, but the younger man had already closed the distance between them, ploughing his fist into Ryan's nose. The older man reared back with a sharp cry of pain, back thudding heavily against the wall and blood immediately gushing down his face.

 

"Michael, stop it!" Jack yelled, yanking the younger man back as he tried to go for Ryan again. It took him a considerable amount of effort. "Hang on a second, Ryan- I'll get you some tissues or something-" he gritted out, hauling Michael from the room while the redhead snarled, trying to break away. They disappeared around the corner.

 

Ryan closed his eyes and sighed, leaning against the wall as he held his nose, breathing through his mouth and trying to ignore the taste of copper on the back of his tongue. His entire face was already starting to throb, and he knew that his nose would be all manner of fantastic shades over the next week. He probed at it tentatively, but he was pretty sure it wasn't broken. That was a relief.

 

He could hear Michael and Jack yelling at each other a few rooms over - Jack probably thought they were far enough away that Ryan wouldn't be able to make out their words, but the walls of Stage 5 were thin and Michael's voice especially had a tendency to carry.

 

"Don't look at me like that, Jack! Fucker's lucky that I only punched him once!"

 

"None of what happened was his fault, Michael!" Jack roared in reply.

 

"He never gave a shit about us, he wouldn't have tried to kill Gavin if he did!" Ryan flinched. "If he actually cared about _any_ of us, he would've been able to stop what happened!"

 

"He had a fucking _mental breakdown_ , you dumbass! You _know_ he'd never do that of his own accord! And anyway, how the fuck's punching him in the goddamn nose supposed to help things?"

 

Ryan almost couldn't make out Michael's reply of, "Sure as hell made _me_ feel better."

 

"What part of 'mental breakdown' aren't you getting? He's probably still fragile, you're lucky you didn't set him off again! How would that make you feel, huh? If, god forbid, he snapped again and ended up seriously injuring someone 'cause you pushed him over the edge?" There was a pause where Michael said nothing. "Stop being so fucking selfish and show some sensitivity next time."

 

Footsteps echoed towards Ryan, and Jack reappeared with a roll of paper towels, cheeks still flushed slightly with anger. The colour drained from his face when he saw Ryan's distraught expression.

 

"…You heard all that, didn't you?"

 

Ryan gave him a short nod, avoiding eye contact.

 

"I'm sorry," Jack said, grunting as he hunkered down next to the blond, offering him the paper towels. Ryan tore off a few sheets, mopping up the worst of the blood on his face and hands before pressing a clean sheet to his nose, soaking up the flow. "I thought we were far enough away. You shouldn't have had to listen to that."

 

"'S not your fault," he replied thickly.

 

"Still, Michael was way out of line. He knows it wasn't really your fault, he's just…"

 

"Angry?"

 

"…Yeah."

 

"I would be too," Ryan murmured quietly, looking sad. Silence fell between them for a few seconds before he spoke again, taking the paper towel away as the blood streaming from his nose dwindled down to a lazy trickle. "Geoff told me you were the one that knocked me out when everything went down last week."

 

God, had it really been less than two weeks since everything had started? It felt like eons had passed already.

 

Jack hesitated, wary, as if expecting Ryan to suddenly attack him. Ryan was really starting to hate that reaction, even if it was largely justified.

 

He placed a gentle hand on the bearded man's shoulder, giving the lightest of squeezes. "Thank you for stopping me," he said simply, despite how much it rankled not being able to tell everyone James had actually been the one to go on a rampage while wearing Ryan's body. He knew no one would believe him, not even Gavin, and he didn't like to dwell on how much that hurt. "I know I wasn't in control of myself then, but I don't know what I would do now if I'd… if Gavin was…" The words lodged in his throat and he swallowed painfully around them, bitterer than the blood that went down with them. "What I'm saying is, Gavin probably wouldn't even be alive now if not for you. I can't thank you enough for saving him."

 

Jack nodded, eyes shining slightly. "I just wish we'd known something was wrong with you sooner, maybe stopped this whole mess from happening in the first place."

 

Head drooping, Ryan broke eye contact. "I wish I'd known too," he said softly. With a sigh, he stood. "I should get home."

 

"You don't have to leave," Jack said quickly - a little too quickly. Ryan sighed again.

 

"No, it's okay. I just talked with Geoff, I was on my way out already." Ryan tried not to feel too upset by the poorly disguised relief on Jack's face. "I'll… see you around, I guess."

 

Jack nodded. "Take care of yourself," he replied sincerely, and Ryan returned the nod before heading to the door. "Hey," Jack called out after him. Ryan turned. "We'll pull through this eventually, okay? This place is like family. We're your family, Ryan. Don't forget that." He offered Ryan a small but honest and hopeful smile. "Things'll work themselves out with time, I promise."

 

"Thanks, Jack." Ryan rubbed surreptitiously at the corners of his eyes and pushed against the door, blaming the sudden brightness of the afternoon sun for the way his eyes were tearing up.

 

He managed to hold it in, though, even when he got home. Keeping his face turned away so she wouldn't see the bruise beginning to show over his nose, he greeted his mother. She was still somehow finding things she hadn't yet cleaned - honestly, at that point the house was already the cleanest it had ever been - and didn't notice the bruise. He made his way to his bedroom to change into his running clothes before heading back outside.

 

Then he ran.

 

He ran fast and hard, pouring in all his pent up emotions and letting them flow out of him.

 

He ran until the only things he could feel anymore were the slap of his feet on concrete and the burning air in his lungs, until he could pretend that the tears finally streaming down his cheeks were from the wind and his own sweat getting in his eyes, blinding him and forcing him to a gasping, broken halt.

 


	17. Chapter 17

It took Ryan quite a while to gather himself enough to feel ready to head back home. He walked the entire way, too drained to continue running. At the very least, it gave him enough time for the redness to clear from his eyes.

 

He'd forgotten to take his phone with him, so his mother was frantic when he finally returned, but the admonishments for making her worry died on her lips when she saw the bruise blotted over his nose. She fluttered her hands and ushered him inside, and Ryan knew that if he'd still been small enough, she would have scooped him into her arms and carried him to his room. Instead, he headed to the living room and sank onto the couch.

 

Ryan assured her that it didn't even hurt much - although it did, and breathing through it while he'd been running had been close to torture. He'd had the foresight to think of an excuse, and when she demanded to know what had happened, he told her sheepishly that he hadn't been looking where he was going on his run, and had smacked into a pole. She fussed over him and gave him a stern lecture about being more aware of his surroundings. Lying to his mother made him feel terrible, but he knew telling her the truth would be worse. He cringed to think how Burnie would react the next day.

 

He very nearly called Burnie to say that he wouldn't be coming in, but in the end reasoned that if he just left a little earlier in the lunch hour, he wouldn't have to run into anyone this time around. Really, the only good thing about the day before was that he'd managed not to run into Gavin on his way out.

 

His mother bustled back in with a tea towel wrapped around some ice cubes, and he gratefully held it against his throbbing face. She hovered over him, endlessly concerned, and he couldn't help but feel bad when he gently told her he needed to take a shower still, when in reality he was starting to find her attention a little stifling.

 

He'd showered and had retreated to his room to stare mindlessly at the ceiling for at least an hour when the doorbell rang. Ryan closed his eyes with a sigh, entirely unwilling to heave himself from his bed. Thankfully, his mother took care of that for him, calling out to him that she'd get it.

 

Murmured voices drifted to his room, too muted for Ryan to determine anything other than the fact that the visitor was a male. He heard muffled footsteps as their guest was led inside.

 

"Ryan," his mother called suddenly, "One of your work friends is here."

 

"Coming," he called after a moment of expectant silence, dragging himself off his bed with a sigh. He plodded reluctantly to the living room, wondering who had decided to make a house call.

 

Jack waved at him uncertainly from the couch.

 

Disappointment and relief flooded Ryan in equal measures that his visitor wasn't Gavin. He quickly pointed at the bruise on his face and said, "I ran into a pole while I was out running." He didn't want Jack to inadvertently reveal the true source of the injury. His mother would fly into hysterics if she found out, he knew.

 

The bearded man looked confused for a split second, then his expression cleared as his face settled into lines of sympathy. "Looks brutal. How're you feeling?"

 

Ryan glanced at his mother, who was still hovering, and eased himself into an armchair. "It doesn't hurt that much," he replied as his mother took the hint and retreated to the kitchen.

 

"That's not what I meant, Ryan," Jack said softly, and the blond swallowed hard.

 

"What do you want me to say?" he replied eventually. "That this sucks? That I hate the way everyone looks at me like I'm a bomb waiting to go off? That I wish it never happened, that everything could go back to the way it was?" He clenched his hands in his lap, trying to control his suddenly harsh breathing.

 

"I just wanted to make sure you're at least talking to someone about how you're feeling," Jack assured him. "Burnie told me that you're seeing a therapist? Is that helping at all?"

 

Ryan snorted. "Doctor's orders. Not really - it feels too clinical. I don't feel comfortable talking about what happened with the therapist." _Not to mention that I can't explain what actually happened without being diagnosed with some sort of psychosis._

 

Jack nodded to himself, running a hand through his hair after a few moments of awkward science. He sighed. "Caiti's way better helping with this sort of stuff. She wanted to come, but she got caught up at one of her photo-shoots and couldn't duck out early. She'll come next time, though."

 

"Don't have her move her schedule around on my account," Ryan mumbled uncomfortably, shifting in his seat.

 

"She wants to help," Jack insisted, scooting forward slightly with an earnest expression on his face. "You're our friend, Ryan. You and Caiti might not have really interacted all that much, but she hates the idea of everything you must be going through. She really just wants to help any way she can."

 

"Thanks, Jack. I know it's a bit out of your way to be here. I appreciate it."

 

"It's no problem," Jack smiled. "Is there anything you can think of that I could do to make you feel better?"

 

Brow furrowed, Ryan chewed his lip for a few seconds, then mustered the courage to ask, "I'd like to know, how… how's Gavin holding up?"

 

Jack's lips pursed. "He's… coping," he said slowly. "I won't lie, he's not exactly okay right now, but he's definitely getting better. He's recorded a few things with us the past few days, y'know, trying to get things back to normal for him, but… it's going to take time."

 

The blond nodded several times, digesting the information. At least the Brit wasn't a complete wreck.

 

"He's a little quiet in the videos, and in general, really," Jack continued, "but that's kind of to be expected. Besides, we've already given the audience a reason for what's happening, so you shouldn't have to worry about either of you being harassed over that."

 

There had been a flurry of fan speculation for the reason behind Ryan's absence. It had ranged from everything between him being diagnosed with some sort of terminal disease, to him going crazy and murdering a bunch of people.

 

Ryan didn't like how often that the second one cropped up, even though he knew the vast majority of them were meant as a joke.

 

The official story that was released by Rooster Teeth was simply that Ryan had been sick enough to warrant a hospital stay, but was now recovered enough to work again. Not recovered enough to star in Achievement Hunter videos, though, or to work in such a chaotic environment.

 

They were making a point now of occasionally sticking a camera into Burnie's office during RT Lifes and Recaps and such, so that Ryan could smile and wave at the lens to prove that he was, in fact, still alive. He was well aware that his continued sleepless nights meant that he looked terrible. At least it lent credence to the idea that he'd been ill.

 

"Well… nice to hear he's making progress," Ryan managed, his voice only sounding a little bit choked.

 

"Yeah," Jack said quietly, and they both sat in silence for several seconds.

 

"Really, thank you for coming by, Jack," Ryan added, both to fill the quiet, and because he was concerned that he hadn't reiterated enough that he was truly grateful for the other man's presence. "It's really nice if you to take some time to see me."

 

Jack smiled warmly. "Like I said, no problem at all. Though I figure you still need a bit of time to process, so I figure I should probably get out of your hair."

 

"No, I didn't mean it like that-"

 

"It's okay," Jack reassured as he stood. "I'll drop by the day after tomorrow, if that's cool with you? Caiti should have her afternoon free, so she can come along."

 

Ryan nodded. "That sounds good. Thanks again, Jack."

 

"You're welcome."

 

He made to move towards the front of the house, and Ryan remembered his manners a little belatedly, hurrying to open the door for Jack as he left.

 

"Safe home," Ryan told him, and Jack smiled.

 

"Thanks. See you later." Jack waved as he stepped onto the driveway, and Ryan returned the gesture before shutting the front door and leaning against it, eyes closed.

 

~* * *~

 

Ryan had been avoiding going to the bathroom at work for the past few days to make it less likely that he'd run into someone as he walked either to or from Burnie's office. Unfortunately, at sometime around 10 the next morning, and curtesy of the three cans of Diet Coke he knew he shouldn't have drunk in such quick succession, his bladder now felt fit to burst. Letting out a small sigh of resignation, Ryan informed Burnie of where he was going and dashed to the bathroom as fast as he could.

 

No one impeded his progress on the way there, which was a relief, but of course it was just his luck that he ran into Michael on the way back.

 

He tensed, waiting for Michael to try and punch another vulnerable part of his body, but apparently Michael was no longer riled up enough to start throwing fists again.

 

"Your nose looks like shit," the redhead informed him, with only a vague hint of smugness.

 

"I know," Ryan replied neutrally, trying to avoid another confrontation.

 

"Is it broken?"

 

Ryan hesitated. "No," he said eventually.

 

Michael grunted. "Shame. Thought I hit you harder than that." He subconsciously flexed his right hand, where his knuckles were lightly bandaged. A tense silence fell for a few seconds before the younger man nodded and added, "Well, I got you back anyway, so I guess we're even."

 

"Huh?"

 

"Y'know," Michael made a gesture to both of their faces. "You broke my nose, I punched you in the face, we're even," he said simply. "I won't forgive you for what you did to Gavin, at least until Gavin does, but I'd say between just us I'm okay with where things stand." He stuck his uninjured hand out and Ryan stared at it, dumbfounded.

 

"I, um, okay?" Ryan offered, taking several moments and a set of raised eyebrows from Michael before finally taking the younger man's hand in his own and shaking. He should have known Michael would be so frank about the whole situation.

 

"Right. See you later, Ryan." With that, Michael shoved his hands in his pockets and wandered off.

 

Ryan stared after him for several seconds before slowly retreating back to Burnie's office.

 

~* * *~

 

Time seemed to pass slowly and in huge rush, all at once. Before Ryan knew it, he'd been back at work for a week, yet simultaneously it felt like his first day back had been months ago. True to his word, Jack visited him often, Caiti with him most of the time. Ryan didn't want to admit just how much the short meetings meant to him, but knew they could both tell.

 

Everyone at Rooster Teeth had gotten used to Ryan's half-days by now, even if they weren't entirely comfortable with it yet. He could tell with the way they still tensed slightly in his presence, averting their eyes from his and rarely engaging him in conversation. Those that did tended to force the conversation, clearly on edge around him, and it was almost worse than being ignored entirely. Over the past few days, he'd noticed things becoming a little less stilted, which was a relief. It was still difficult, but it was definitely getting better.

 

He still hadn't seen Gavin yet.

 

The younger man's absence from his life gnawed at him incessantly, though he tried not to let it show.

 

He knew that he had to let Gavin take the first step. He just hadn't realised it would be quite so hard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I know this a bit of an abrupt announcement, but this is the second last chapter. There will be one more chapter and an epilogue after this, but that'll be it. Thank you so much for all the incredible support for this fic - I'm not lying when I say it wouldn't have gotten this long if it weren't for all your lovely comments and messages.
> 
>  
> 
> Stay tuned!


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Drawing to a close now! This is the last official chapter, though there will be an epilogue in a few days. I hope you've enjoyed this journey as much as I have!

Gavin's heart beat abnormally fast as he approached the door to Burnie's office. Despite Geoff's insistence that he wasn't ready for it, Gavin was tired of continuing to pretend like Ryan didn't even exist. If either of them wanted to move on at all, he couldn't keep completely ignoring the older man. And it wasn't like they even had to talk at all, he reasoned. Gavin had to at least bring himself to be able to be in Ryan's general proximity without immediately fleeing in terror.

 

He took a deep breath and knocked on the door.

 

"Come in," Burnie called from inside. Hands trembling, Gavin complied, immediately resting one hand on the doorframe and cramming the other into his pocket to hide their shaking.

 

"Gus wants to make sure you're still good for the podcast tonight."

 

It was a flimsy excuse for Gavin feeling the need to deliver the information in person, rather than Gus simply sending Burnie a text, but the curly-haired man already knew Gavin's intention. He smiled kindly and replied, "Yep, I'm good. You gonna be on tonight?"

 

"No, I don't… 'M not feeling up to it yet," Gavin mumbled. "I should definitely be good for next week, though."

 

The Brit's eyes flicked to Ryan, who had been struggling to not stare at him longingly. He wanted to at least say the older man's name, but it stuck in his throat, so he nodded in acknowledgement instead. Ryan returned the gesture hesitantly, and Gavin managed a small, slightly strained smile in response before slipping back out, closing the door behind him and letting out a long breath of air.

 

His legs were a little wobbly, his breathing a little rapid, but all in all he felt he had handled himself remarkably well. It would still be a while before he was ready to work with Ryan again, but his current fear of the man wasn't enough to make him actually run and hide if he saw him. It wasn't much, but it was a start, and Gavin was willing to put in the effort of trying to rebuild his trust in Ryan.

 

~* * *~

 

Ryan stared at the door, mouth dry and hands still. He was dimly aware of Burnie watching him like a hawk from his own desk, trying to gauge the blond's reaction.

 

"Hey, you okay, Ryan?" he ventured eventually.

 

The younger man managed to swallow. "The bruises didn't look as bad as I thought they would," he replied softly. The way he could remember his - James' - hands crushing Gavin's windpipe had left him with the surety that Gavin's neck would be a blotchy mess of purple, even after a week had passed since the original injury was inflicted. It turned out the real deal was a little less dramatic; whilst still clearly the mark of an attempted strangulation, the bruises were like a murky handprint, not as dark or expansive as Ryan had expected, and largely hidden by the collar of the Brit's hoodie regardless.

 

"They've had some time to heal," Burnie offered, then repeated, "Are you okay?"

 

Ryan took a deep breath and let it out. "…Yeah. Yeah, I think I am." The slightest of smiles touched his lips and he looked down. "It was nice to see him again."

 

Burnie nodded thoughtfully. "That's good to hear." He paused for a moment, then continued, "Listen, Ryan, I've already talked to him about it and he's onboard if you are, but I think it'd be good for both of you to start interacting a little more. Y'know, try and build up to a point where he's okay with you being back in the Achievement Hunter office again. How does that sound?"

 

A small, wistful but genuine smile lit Ryan's face. He nodded. "Yeah, I'd like that." The smile dimmed slightly. "He _is_ okay with doing that, right?"

 

"It was his idea," Burnie assured. "Him ducking in just now was kind of like a trial run, to see if he was ready for it. I'd say the way he reacted means you're good to go."

 

~* * *~

 

The interactions with Gavin turned out to be both easy and hard. Easy, because they'd both known each other so well for so long already that a casual dialogue was an absolute breeze to strike up, despite what had happened.

 

Hard, because Ryan ached with the entirety of his being to be able to wrap Gavin up in hug and promise that nothing bad would ever happen to him again.

 

Still, progress was steady, and within a few weeks Burnie suggested they try holding a conversation about what had happened with one another, without any direct supervision. He was quick to assure them that although they would, ostensibly, be left alone in a currently unused office space next to Burnie's, the doors would be open, so they could yell out and run if either of them felt the need to bail. It went unspoken that if either of them were to do so, it would almost definitely be Gavin. In any case, the desk and chairs were positioned so that they were both an equal distance from the door. Burnie got one last confirmation that they were both ready, then exited, leaving the door comfortingly wide open.

 

"…What do you remember about what happened?" Ryan asked after a few seconds, sick to death of all the awkward silences in his life lately.

 

"Not much, actually," Gavin admitted. "I remember Geoff getting knocked out, then I forget up until you… when I was up against the door. Then Jack smacked you with the Xbox, and that was about when I passed out." He drew a trembling breath. "How 'bout you?"

 

"I remembered everything," Ryan began, swallowing to try and moisten his suddenly dry throat, "but only after it had all happened. I just… woke up in hospital, restrained to a bed with no idea how I'd gotten there, or why." He fought to keep the twisted, humourless smile off of his face. "It was like someone else was in control of my body for a week."

 

"That must've been horrible," Gavin murmured, and Ryan loved him all the more for the fact that he was showing sympathy when Ryan still so clearly terrified him.

 

"It was." He forced himself to meet Gavin's eyes. "Then saw my scars, and I remembered everything that I did to you - to all of you - and it was a thousand times worse."

 

Gavin looked alarmed. "Scars? What d'you mean, scars?"

 

 _Oh, shit_. Ryan had assumed that the doctors would have explained to those closest to him everything that had happened to Ryan, physically as well as mentally. Apparently not.

 

Releasing a shaky breath, Ryan stood, hitching up his shirt and pushing his pants down slightly, letting Gavin see the fresh sterile pad he'd stuck over the injury that morning. He knew that doing so wasn't entirely necessary from an infection prevention standpoint, but the area was still a little tender and the padding stopped his jeans from scraping over the angry pink words. It also meant he saw the words themselves less often, which was a definite bonus. "I say 'scars'," Ryan said carefully, "But they're still kind of in the healing-over phase of things. It will leave permanent scars in the long run, but they won't be quite as… dramatic as they are right now," he warned, then took a deep gulp of air before peeling back the medical tape. "Apparently crazy me has a really fucked up sense of humour," he said in a choked voice, jaw clenched as Gavin read the words carved into his abdomen.

 

Gavin looked up at him, eyes filled with horror, and Ryan was quick to cover everything up again. The Brit's mouth opened and closed a few times, the words refusing to come.

 

"Pretty bad, huh?" Ryan tried to inject some light-heartedness into the words, but they just came out watery and tight.

 

"Jesus, Ryan," Gavin breathed softly, eyes alight with concern. "I'm so sorry."

 

"Gavin, please, you're the _last_ person I should have apologising to me, not after… what happened."

 

The younger man's brow furrowed. "When did you even do that to yourself?"

 

Ryan swallowed hard. "The day before I was admitted to the hospital."

 

"You mean… you slept next to me all night, right after you cut up your stomach, and I didn't even notice?" he asked dully.

 

"Gavin…"

 

The Brit's breath shuddered in his throat. "I…I've spent so much time dealing with what happened to me to even begin thinking about the fact that it happened to you, too. I really am sorry, Rye. I'm such a selfish prick."

 

"Gavin, no," Ryan pleaded softly. "This?" He gestured at where his scars were. "This is _nothing_ compared to what happened to you."

 

"That's utter rubbish, Ryan, and you know it," Gavin retorted fiercely, the corners of his eyes stinging. "You said it yourself, those scars're going to be there for the rest of your life. What've I got? The bruises that were on my neck're gone now."

 

"Not all scars are physical, Gavin."

 

"But those're the only type you can actually see," Gavin murmured, eyes tortured. "You're going to see those every day. Every time you take your shirt of you'll see them. Me? I'll probably get to the point where I'll only think about it sometimes. You won't have that."

 

"Maybe I deserve to," Ryan muttered. "I should've been able to stop what happened. There has to have been a way."

 

"That's the biggest load of toss I've ever heard. You don't deserve that."

 

Ryan was startled by the vehemence in the younger man's voice.

 

"Don't I?" he asked after a moment's silence. "Gavin, you're still so terrified of me that you flinch every time I move."

 

"Of course I'm bloody scared of you, a month ago you tried to strangle me!" Gavin blurted without thinking, then immediately looked horrified at the stricken expression on the other man's face.

 

"I have to go," Ryan said, voice wavering.

 

"Ryan, wait-" Gavin protested, but the older man had already turned his tear-filled eyes away, heading for the door.

 

The Brit bit his lip, then screwed up his courage, darting forward and tugging Ryan back into the room by his arm. "I still love you," he said quickly, forcing Ryan to meet his eyes and see the earnestness there. "Yeah, I've still got other things to work through right now, and I might want to run away and hide from it all, but I won't. I won't do it. I love you, Ryan, and I know you love me too. And yeah, I'm still scared, but I know you'd never actually _want_ to hurt me, I know you didn't mean those things you said. You weren't yourself. It wasn't your fault, okay? It wasn't your fault."

 

Ryan looked at Gavin, close enough to see the tumultuous mix of hope and fear and love clashing on the younger man's face.

 

His legs seemed to suddenly decide to stop supporting him, knees hitting the carpet as tears started to track down his cheeks of their own accord. His shoulders hunched inward, his head bowed, his arms hugging against his sides. Everything about him suddenly seemed small. Gavin fought through his trepidation and his current reluctance to be in the older man's immediate vicinity, leaning over and draping his arms around Ryan's shoulders.

 

The blond clung to him suddenly, sobs shuddering through his body. Gavin stifled his desire to scream in terror, to pull away, and instead let his hand run soothingly through Ryan's hair. He knew that if he started yelling, Burnie would burst in a second later. The last thing Ryan needed was an audience as he cried.

 

"I'm so sorry," Ryan gasped, hardly able to draw breath around the tears that choked him. He wanted to give Gavin his space, but felt like if he let go of the younger man that he himself would simply shatter. "I'm so sorry, I'm sorry…"

 

Gavin shushed him gently, rocking him slightly from side to side. Ryan curled further into him, practically in the younger man's lap at this point as Gavin was able to push down his instinctual reaction to flee. "It's alright, Ryan," he murmured. "I forgive you. It wasn't your fault. It wasn't your fault."

 

He repeated the phrase over and over, words soft and understanding as Ryan gradually stopped apologising for something that he hadn't had any real control over.

 

But Ryan didn't move. More than twenty minutes passed without meaning, and Ryan continued to kneel on the floor, cradled in Gavin's arms. It almost seemed like he never wanted to move again. Tears just continued to streak down Ryan's face, clinging to the man he loved, the man that his alternate self had tried so hard to destroy.

 

"We can fix this," Gavin whispered.

 

"How?" The word was quiet, desperate.

 

The Brit hesitated. "…I don't know. We'll figure it out."

 

Ryan finally pulled away, and it felt like he hadn't moved in years. He didn't meet Gavin's eyes. "I don't know if we should."

 

"What?"

 

The older man's voice was tight, fighting to stop the tears from falling again. "It might be better for you to cut your losses with me. Find someone that would never hurt you like that."

 

"You didn't mean to."

 

"It's still happened."

 

"But you didn't mean to," Gavin insisted. "How many times do I have to say that? Besides, it'd be pretty shit of me to leave you without even trying, just because you had a mental breakdown." He sighed softly, but it wasn't an exasperated sound. "I'm not expecting you to act like it never happened - I know it'll be a damn long while before either of us can do that - but can we at least try? We can start from the beginning. We'll work together, we'll get back to being friends, and we'll fall in love all over again. How does that sound?"

 

Ryan nodded feebly, sniffling and feeling like a child. "I'd like that."

 

"And no more rubbish about this being your fault, okay? Because it wasn't. It was all a horrible accident."

 

Ryan nodded again. "…Okay."

 

Gavin returned the gesture firmly. "Good. Now, we're starting over, so we have to introduce ourselves." He leaned back and held out his hand, a determined look on his face. "Hi. I'm Gavin."

 

The older man managed to crack a smile as he took Gavin's hand and shook gently. "Hello, Gavin. I'm Ryan, it's a pleasure to meet you."

 

"You're nice and you have a good handshake, I can tell we're going to be friends already," Gavin told him, and Ryan let out a small but genuine laugh.

 

It wouldn't be quick, and it wouldn't be easy - and he'd never be able to tell Gavin the full truth - but in that instant Ryan knew then that no matter how long it took, they would be able to fix the damage done to their relationship.

 


	19. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *wipes sweat from brow* Whew, what an adventure! This fic ended up topping off at just over 43,000 words, which is a big achievement for me. Thank you so much to everyone who stuck with me the whole way through, and even those who have only just picked it up. You guys are one of the big reasons why I write. Heart you all. :)
> 
> Enjoy the epilogue!

Gavin licked his lips, nervous despite the fact that he and Ryan had been so steadily rebuilding their relationship. It had been a slow and laborious seven months, but the older man had been happy to let him set the pace. While Gavin was grateful for the fact that Ryan wasn't forcing anything on him - they both knew that would have been the worst possible thing to do in their situation anyway - he hated that he himself was the limiting factor in their progress.

 

Of course, that didn't mean he'd push himself to take a step he wasn't actually ready to take yet. Ryan had always been perceptive, and slowed down any time Gavin seemed even close to doing so. It simply meant that if he could, he'd shove down his smaller misgivings and concerns and forge ahead.

 

He took a deep breath. "Hey, Ryan?"

 

The older man swivelled in his chair, casting an inquisitive look at the Brit. "Yeah, Gav, what's up?"

 

They were the only two in the office at that particular moment - it had been just over two months since Geoff and the others had eased up enough to be comfortable leaving them alone for any length of time, four months since Ryan had even moved back into the Achievement Hunter office. Despite this, Gavin couldn't help but steal a quick glance at the other desks, as if making sure that one of their co-workers hadn't snuck back in when he hadn't been looking. After his reflexive check, he stood and took a few steps towards Ryan, fiddling with the hem of his shirt and blushing. "I was wondering if… only if you're okay with it, of course, but… I wanted to know if I could maybe kiss you a little bit?"

 

Ryan's lips parted slightly with surprise, and he swallowed before replying, "Are you sure?"

 

Gavin's face fell. "If you don't want to, it's fine-"

 

"No, no, I want to," Ryan reassured quickly, chair rolling forward slightly as he made a conciliatory gesture. "I just want to make sure you do too."

 

"I do," Gavin nodded vigorously, taking another few steps. Ryan smiled encouragingly, trusting Gavin to close the distance if he felt up to it - and knowing that the Brit might spook if he himself stood and approached. Better to let the younger man keep the height advantage to make him feel a little more at ease.

 

With only a small trace of hesitance, Gavin eventually came to a stop within reach of Ryan. The older man smiled gently up at his blush-red face. "I don't think you were even blushing this much the first time we kissed," he said, and of course Gavin coloured further.

 

"Shut up," he mumbled, then before he could change his mind, he leaned down and pressed his lips to Ryan's.

 

Instantly, all his doubts were gone as Ryan kissed him softly and sweetly, Gavin's hand coming up to cup the older man's jaw. Ryan leaned into the touch, but made no advances of his own. And Gavin knew he wouldn't unless he himself specifically asked for them to be made. The knowledge that Ryan was so utterly dedicated to both of their recoveries melted away some of his residual fears and he smiled as they broke apart, lips still barely touching.

 

"I've missed this so much," Ryan whispered. "I've missed you so much."

 

"Me too," Gavin admitted, eyes closed as he leaned their foreheads together. "We're really going to make this work, aren't we?"

 

A small huff of laughter burbled in Ryan's throat, and he dared to press a brief kiss to the corner of the younger man's mouth. "Yeah. Yeah we are."

 

Gavin laughed too, and despite the scars on Gavin's mind, on Ryan's body, the marks from their ordeal that would never truly fade, they both knew that whatever the future held, they would be strong enough to face it together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those of you who would like to know what happens to alternate!Gavin (because I know some of you were disappointed that there wasn't any follow-up with that, I do apologise, I just couldn't find the motivation to write it myself), the wonderful MintSharpie has written their interpretation of events! The link should be below. :)

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Fallen From Me (a Misplaced epilogue)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3648507) by [BM Vagaybond (MintSharpie)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MintSharpie/pseuds/BM%20Vagaybond)




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